The Nothingness of Us
The television blinking in the distance
The sound long faded impossible to exist in your presence
I sit content, as you lay softly upon my beating chest
My fingers gently sweeping across the top of your breast
The curve of your ear and the dimple in your cheek
How your lips flutter with each breathe every time I sneak a quick peek
Countless seconds passed as I lay nestled within the sweet caress
Of your love as it kisses my mind and tickles my soul
The totality of you cannot be stated, written, or proclaimed
For words dirty up your perfection
Proclamations cheapen your commitments
And poetry, well….
How can the totality of you been summoned up in a word
Or words, or lyrics, or paragraphs, or stories
What is sexy? When sexy to one is grotesque to another
What is perfection? When perfection to one is irritation to another
The poem of you can only be written in between the seconds of me
The love of you can only be stated in the nothingness of me
The proclamation of you can only be proclaimed…
In the loss of the singularity of me within the unity of you
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