I'll give you my whole heart
But can those small hands juggle my past
The future?
As the fury of love attempts a quick escape in the winter wind
I'm forcing the door closed, can you come help me?
Life in different directions.
I hold hands with strangers at intersections
Hoping the incoming lights of love leads us to where we need to go
Beautifully blessed. Broke in Paris
You'll let me enjoy your body, never your art.
I'd try to convince you in our couchside conversations
"It's just not ready yet"
"For...me?"
"For anyone really, I guess the time will come to unveil that part of myself"
"I hope you can trust me"
"Trust is largely irrelevant to me"
"Explain?"
"Well trust is a present feeling that relies on notions of the past and future. I want to live in the here, the now, without thinking of those things. All I know is you, right now, others may have fooled me. But I refuse to fool myself with trust, the past, or the future."
And just like that, trust was whisked away with a wave of her hand. We sat there and talked some more. But behind my casual conversation was a burning desire to have all of her. The totality of her mind proved just as alluring as the curves under her sun dress. Patience would be key. But I was a small child stuck in a dark room. Attempting to brave the unknown while fumbling for the light, the answer. Her voice, the mystery...
-D
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