You.

With motives dark

a touch so delicate

your words inflict bruising with such eloquence.

It’s you.

You who peals the bells that resonate beneath my skin

whose warm praise wraps round my heart

opaque

rice paper thin.

In you.

In you the landscape of my desire is written

scrawled in your hand.

Each shift of weight, each ripple

every breath.

The shuddering ones and the quiet.

As I retreat, freefalling head first into fantasy

or lunge forward, with scant regard into life unbridled

You have been the anchor.

That which keeps me moored.

Though tides and wakes relentless break upon my shores

and swirl forebodingly around the sun

it’s this desire for you that crests

forever out of reach

but always in my view.

Timeless

and more.

You.