past lives iii.

an equal
my equal
                tell me again why you came here
             why you trust me;

    our dance is not linear,
          contemporary – perhaps

     we have until forever to listen to one another
             all the time to put the pieces
                       up against themselves
and I could hear you,
              h e a r you for hours

        cheek pressed into your hand,
               I won’t tell you I love you
             no, I want to paint it in my eyes
      dressed in linen and curled in your lap;

                    I will not step back,
              you are magnetic, a pull at my core
         defy what you knew
                      come see what I see

                my breathing is shallow
             meditation leads to your voice
                      velvet is dull comparatively speaking
                   and it is all I can do
                                    to hug you to my heart

      no, I will tell you I love you
               tattooed into my skin,
             because the shortest distance
                  between two points
                      is between your soaring heart
                 and my throbbing soul

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