I heard this and felt electric.
I would liken it to the sort of feeling a coffee lover gets once they have their first shot of expresso. Perhaps something more intense- like the synonymous thrill and relief of an addict, when the hit is strong, and the first in a while. 

But why? Why should I care? Why should I feel anything?
It is but a phrase, sparse ink on a naked page – I simply heard it, somewhere. Those words did not, in the beginning, resonate with me yet still they were ingested, and began to create whirlpools at the core of my desire stained interior.
I had but a chance to blink, and then, I felt something.

It was this:

There are kisses that wait restlessly on my lips, reserved for you, and only you. And yes, while mine sleep, they dream of lips like yours and savour the flavour of your presence in my life. They revel in all the ribbons of affection I long to drape over you, with love soaked affirmations and fingertips static with desire. There is a restless beating drum in my chest waiting to find a rhythm in yours, and I become dizzy with this influx of tangible, yet indescribable emotion.
My rhythms syncopated with excitement.

I may not have known before, but the truth has pursued me relentlessly. 

Indeed, My kisses dream of lips like yours.

I wanted to pose with flowers
Draped all over my body.
Complimentary to me, or I to them.

I wanted to lay on the back of a tiger
That I would call King Khan, and go on
Journeys with him through his world.

And have birds of paradise in my room,
That would sing me to sleep and wake me
Up the following morning, every morning.

I even wanted to harvest the rays of the sun
And hold them safe in a jar,
Whilst I watched their streaks illuminate my world.

But most of all, I wanted you.
I wanted you by my side, in my mind, all the time… Intertwined.
The gravity that holds upright my curving spine.
Interlocked into each other, wanting with the same force.
I would stare, I would stare… I still stare.

-And then, a thought.

Of all the things I thought I could want-
The flowers, King Khan and his stripes,
The beautiful birds, the rays of the sun
Each would have to die their true selves.
Perhaps entirely, in order to be mine.

You see the flowers on my body would be limp and lifeless
Starved of the water they need to survive.
And a beast that cannot run wild for the burden I would have placed on its back; 


And what about the birds?
Vibrant, singing… Caged, clipped wings.
And the sunlight? In whose world would it exist, but mine?
Who else would be able to find it? 

So, my love, you see now why I cannot want you near me.
For how could I love you dearly
Without causing you to tear yourself up
From the ground you have laid your roots, please?

It’s true I want you to be mine, all mine.
But I, and most definitely you,
Would be happier to know you can exist outside of me.

And I will walk though your garden
And tend to you from a distance.
Water your roots, and take care to see you grow upright.

Because I want the love we have together to be rich.
But I understand, if I want you to live,
The flowers of your love cannot be mine to pick.

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,
Is incomplete.
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.