|Soliliquy (Rewrite) (standard:romance, 448 words)|
|Author: Cyrano||Added: Mar 12 2007||Views/Reads: 1801/0||Story 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 perceptions. 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. Tweet
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