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Soliliquy (Rewrite) (standard:romance, 448 words)
Author: CyranoAdded: Mar 12 2007Views/Reads: 1987/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
When a man is able to sit down, finally, and thank God for what he has found.

I knew you would find me; no clock need remind me. I planned on it,
worked it out, hid in plain sight every day knowing you would pass that 
way or this, come along, go ahead, pause here, or somewhere; near or 
far it did not matter, you would arrive. It kept my empty heart alive 
and thriving during the clatter of time, knowing that you would one day 
see me and not turn away. 

Now evenings, like forever, start fleeting; going fast, I saw you at
some distance, appearing in the mist. Ending the mass of fondled faces 
imagined in a lifetime. I expected every spring to bring you to my 
arms, to my side, but autumns came thick and firm and fast. I never 
gave up believing you'd arrive with each winters passing, be here as 
the moon fell, as the sun rose, clasping hands, bodies closing that gap 
between the noon and the nightline. 

Is this it? Is this what every human is looking for? Is this why we are
never closed to the idea of being found? I've lived a life of 
transparent failings so you must forgive my need to marvel. I crave the 
sound of your voice, the look of your mouth as it speaks to me, the 
overwhelming desire to kiss it quiet when it speaks to anyone else but 
me! I am your Rimbaud, Verlain, Baudelaire, or any other member of that 
whole crew who wondered poetically about shoulder blades, the curdling 
juices between lovers, the battering submissions and the scars of false 

I lie beside you not understanding the language of sleep, content to
drown in the warmth of your breasts, your body pulling me in, the 
quicksilver mind with all its glittering, shimmering pools of ideas and 
thoughts. Have you no mercy; have you no compassion for a man lost in 
the beauty of tender intelligence and member moving eroticism? 

You're so incredible to me, but somewhere, something of what you are is
alien to me, something not to be judged by superficial standards, moral 
ethics, something incredibly dirty and known only to the tramp in you. 
The Amazonian woman never found without deep exploration. The kind of 
woman won on a one hit moment. I cannot lay my head down without you; 
seeing only the edge of wonder, living in some interstellar space 
between you and what is real. I love you from my nerve ends to my brain 
cells and I'm damned if you shouldn't accept the blame of all that you 
are, all that I fear, and all you shall yet mean to me. I love you so 
very much, so absolutely and forever. 


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