Its been so long since we've spoke. I wish you were just here. Its so simple. Its been so long since i've driven your high cheekbones and cycled your nurturing thighs. I just wish you were here. Here! Im not about to pretend this is grand or something of great significance. Just a party for two, our table is ready, I just want you here. Next to me. Your breath stains my collar bone and your elbow tickles my spleen. Everything is alright, now that you're here. No more pressing myself against you in your sleep. My wanton, semi-conscious lust will just have to wait. Im your benign. Im your familiar, just like you said. Your skin grows from my breath, like mine growns from your kicks to the shin. I just want you here. I can't begin to press my existance to you any harder. Sometimes I wonder if I couldn't just pass through you like a gelatinous entity..haunting old churches & houses. If you were here id kiss your warm cheekbones and start the car. I just want you here...when you dart your nose in and around my neck and ear. It seems we are often seeking to get inside the other, like a transparency on the overhead. You know. Im cupping your chin, sending morse code from your behind, to your brain. I just want you here, receiving messages. Im your antennea...sounding so silly Sometimes I think of you, as a child, rather, im the child, looking at an aging photograph, of you. I wonder how time would present you. I suspect age and vintage are good to you. Sunshine dresses and whites sheets on the clothes line. Dust bowl honey, c'mere and lets break the law. Jallopy's in the yard and scruffy dogs running circles with porkchop smiles. Being poor has been good to you. The white sheets couldnt be whiter, and your warmed, red love couldnt be richer. Im breaking the bank! No sign of depression here. I long to be humble with you. Humbleness with you seems like riches to the world. If they only knew, and maybe they do. But I'll never let on. Dust bowl honey. I have dreams of nuclear destruction, and wandering eyes. My dreams taunt and terrify me unto no end. But when Im awake, next you, in a dustbowl bed, pressing my existance into your depression, Im richer than can be. No holocaust about it. I just want to be next to you...you...you and you! |