Intimacy

I want to sink into you.

The way you smell.

I want to get lost in it.

I want to wander into that,

Forest

Of

You-ness.

I never want to be found again.

I want to swim into,

The ocean of your experiences.

I want the last words you heard,

Your mother speak,

To crash over me,

Like waves.

I want to see,

If I am strong enough,

To weather the storms,

Of your trauma.

I want to see if I am worthy,

Of this,

Salty,

Shaking,

Catharsis.

I want a dark room.

I want plush blankets.

I want soft music.

I want pillows that hold me,

Like you do.

I want a bed sturdy enough,

To cradle me into it’s embrace,

Without quaking,

At my touch.

I want to look,

Into the vast universe

That spans the distance between our locked eyes.

I want to peer inside your potential,

And decide I like you,

Even if you never reach it.

I want you to breathe into me,

All the secrets,

You’ve never said aloud.

Too afraid that the act of speaking,

Would somehow bring them to life.

I want to laugh,

At how we used to be strangers.

I want to cry,

When we are strangers again.

I want to experience you,

In live action

Up close and extremely personal.

I want to replay your words,

Like tapes in my mind.

Fuzzy with static,

Never stored near magnets.

A pencil close by,

To repair what I damage,

In my haste,

To just…

Listen.