yes, i am a mountain. love me like an owl loves the moon, love me like a sad story. my body is an artist's home; you will see scars marked by a life lived unapologetically. you will find poetry existing somewhere between my spread fingers. come to me for secrets, i will whisper them to you with my immeasurable number of leaves. pull me into you as though i am oxygen to your lungs and medicine to your wounds. i won't hurt you as cupid did, i will help you heal as a forest rebirths itself in the spring rain.
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yes, i am a pantomime. love me with gestures, with hands; in a language unbound to words. my heart is a theatre stage; come beneath these lights and we will dance as though we are deeply in love. do not carry promises in your upper lip, show me instead through your rainpuddle eyes. give me a reason to believe in the moments we sip together. i won't believe the hearts in your messages. do not say the three words, but show it in another language, one of more passion but fools the young to be more intimate than words. you don't have to prove your feelings for if they are real, i will be able to feel them without seeking. come to me, my neptune, cry me the tears you've saved up for the one you love the most. love me as i act it; before i pull out the arrow in your back, an ode to me.
yes, i am greedy. love me before leaving. all meaningful things have an ending, don't they, like a book; so before it ends, let me experience what it is to be truly loved. what it is like to hold another's heart in your hands, be someone's sunrise. love me for every flower i grow in the wake of my footsteps, and every drop in an ocean. i would give you a garden in exchange for your heart. call me when the flowers die. then i can give it back.
18.02.19
