09/09/2018
03:58 AM
One look
One word
One sorry
One inkling
One indication
One hope
Hey,
Is this the place your intimation
would lead me to?
You must know,
I can sail across a thousand seas
I will raise my almost-wrecked banner and go to war upon foes that lurk beneath the gloom of the scourging seas
I don't care no matter the hazard
Unmapped territories don't frighten me
The reptiles of the depth—much bigger, but not invincible
This boy's armada of fleet has withstood more battles than you have ever been into
These I can confront with a stolid countenance
If at the end of the shore awaits you
You and your prize-winning smile
But, I must admit—
I am scared of you
Afraid that these subtle hints of yours are more than false indications I mistook for love
You are the gaping cliff the elders warned me not to play around
The box of cake I was teased to open
The first lick to a just-served ice cream I wish I didn't
The regretful puff of my first cigarette stick
The empty lights I should not have flickered on
I should not have wax-stamped your initials on my head
Or filled my brain with the image of your mouth as it traces into a smile: God how pearly those are
I should not have lost myself to your soul-penetrating scent
And fall madly every time you wear that strange perfume
I remember myself smelling your clothes eyes-shut when you unwarily placed it by a post; and thereto instantly replacing it with your own body in my fancy—I wouldn't mind sniffing your body all day
Oh how this new kind of fondness kept me smiling at irregular intervals
How this new kind of love I'm feeling is sending me to madness
The kind I never want sanity to be on the doorstep again
Hey,
Can you feel the fiery connection we have when we sit next to each other?
It's love
And honey, if we wait long enough without taking a step closer,
someone else might put out the flame
It's something that I fear will happen one day,
but it usually happens—
it does every time
Or is this some self-started fire that by it I am the only one scorched?
That's even terrifying
Unfortunately, it happens more often.

YOU ARE READING
Albeit flawed,
PoesíaI was basking under the sun-the waves muffle the sound of my breathing; and I bury myself with cautionary confidence in the sand and with it the memory of your four faces. How can something lethal be life-restorative?