But my heart is smiling and my body is fully awake.
Valentines Day was really delightful. Grape leaves and cookies, a blanket for sitting on the grass, poetry that reaches to my heart, [moves in and never leaves], multiple trips to blockbuster, pasta with chunky tomatoes, and a night that made my dreams mix with reality and left me spinning.
I forgot to be anxious this weekend. I forgot to question my breathing. Instead I focused on yours, and the way you kiss me. The curve of your body, and the way you kicked books and earrings off my bed.
Valentines Day was really delightful. Grape leaves and cookies, a blanket for sitting on the grass, poetry that reaches to my heart, [moves in and never leaves], multiple trips to blockbuster, pasta with chunky tomatoes, and a night that made my dreams mix with reality and left me spinning.
I forgot to be anxious this weekend. I forgot to question my breathing. Instead I focused on yours, and the way you kiss me. The curve of your body, and the way you kicked books and earrings off my bed.
put my eyes out, and i can see you still;
slam my ears to, and i can hear you yet;
and without any feet can go to you;
and tongueless, i can conjure you at will.
break my arms, i shall take hold of you
and grasp you with my heart as with a hand;
arrest my heart, my brain will beat as true;
and if you set this brain of mine afire,
upon my blood i then will carry you.
Rilke will always have my heart. Always. Neruda is beginning to claim it, too. I'm a polygamist for poets.
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