day 28: censored

I want to take
a dive, a plunge,
your face in my hands,
my time
and finally
off from these lands, with you.

Mind, body and soul, you said.

I want to sail
seven cold seas, (with you)
I want to see
your skin grow old, see?
and finally
your eyes grow wise, with me.

Days asleep,
with you.
Hours in queues,
minutes sharing food,
seconds through and through.

I want to make
this feeling last,
shockwaves through the ether,
gusts of wind underneath your
wings.

As far as I can tell,
my comfort lies in jeopardy,
and though I sleep alone,
my bed is not half empty;
it's half full,
heavy with the memory of your smell
of your laugh, your lull.

Mind, body and soul, you said
schematically dissected,
pyramidically perfected.

Mind, body and soul, you said.

Your throat, chin, and clavicle;
within that tender triangle
I'll be drunk,
singing, and
knocking on your navel,
the window to your bowel.

My mind, my body, my soul.