I want Intimacy.
But I don’t want to be touched all over.
I want us to breathe the same atmosphere,
Walk seperate paths, but wear the same destiny.
I don’t want us to to be written on the same page, but in the same book.
And when our chapters meet I want it to mean that I complete you,
And you me.
I want the collision to be so catastrophic,
That our ink spills all on the same page,
And merges to form beautiful words,
Interweaving and seeping down the spine, until we are bound together by A course that we ourselves have scribed.
I want to learn every essence of your being,
The dark matter, and supernovas,
Before I come to know all the corners of your physical form.
It is said that compassion excluding Self,
So I want you to love all of you, before you begin to think about loving me.
And then I want security in the form of your word.
Not the one you would promise any other,
But the word you speak to yourself.
Love your woman as you might love yourself.
Grant me to stay by you, and hear you breathe.
I want us to lay side by side, and for all of this to fill the space in-between.