It Could Have Been on the Chauvet Cave
Because love knows no time.
Pen scratches on parchment, papyrus, paper?
It's hard to remember.
It could have been on the Chauvet Cave.
*
I have felt like I have been here before.
Ink swapped for keyboard clacks,
And the roles reversed.
Although I suppose perhaps in this life, I will teach you things, too.
*
I hope to profess my heart,
And that you will be my eager pupil,
Ready to learn the language of my lips and the curve of my mouth,
To read the furrows in my brow and the blush in my cheek.
*
For now, I will wait with bated breath.
My eyes meet yours, but they are guarded,
Like a fortress built to protect sacred ground.
I see your citadel, as I possess the same.
Defenses constructed to contain.
Mitigate. Nullify. Numb.
My desire seeks to lower our arms in each other's.
I am not foe, but friend.
I will not loot, but love.
About the Creator
E.K. Daniels
Writer, watercolorist, and regular at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Twitter @inkladen
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.