minimalism

WITHIN

You see me,
gentle on the surface,
tepid to the touch.
Oblivous to the torment within.
The unsettling fear that grips me
when you are near.

But there are times in our lives
when all seems so right,
and yet we hesitate, bound by our insecurities.
As I held you close that night
the whispered words in my head
never made it to my lips.
An avalanche of emotions
enveloped me.
I was left
a storm without thunder,
yearning for that one last inch,
one kiss,
so elusive.

I could leave my dreams
on your answer machine.
Tell you about the two parts of me.
My secret weakness.
Intoxicated confessions in the middle of the night.
Would you condemn me, love?
Punish me with consternation?
Or would you hold my honesty
dear to you?

I see you
as a dove.
The peacefulness of your presence
too free to capture.
I hear your melody
and want to sing along.
The wind in your wings
mesmerizes me.
Burns me to my soul.
I long to know your badness,
your rhythm.
I want to be soft next to you.
I could climb, everknowing,
that mountains like you can never be conquered.
And well aware of the consequences
of trying to restrain your heart.
All that I ask of you, humbly,
is to spare a space for me
in your rare box of memories.