I think of you in the passages of Keats, and cummings. I harken to - TopicsExpress



          

I think of you in the passages of Keats, and cummings. I harken to your presence in the phrases from Laurence and Auden. I see you in the clouds in the sky, in the mindless words of work and in the pattern in the carpet. I feel you in the warmth of the morning sun, in the sweater I hug tightly to me and in the soft sand on my fingertips. I taste you in the texture of coffee, the silkiness of chocolate and in that memory of a kiss. But I wonder to myself, how you can have memories of someone you have never met, someone you have never set eyes upon, smelled the scent of, touched nor tasted. Then I answer myself simply, who wouldn’t remember the second half of your soul, that portion connected to yours with that unbreakable golden rope, just ticking the time by until you and I have met once again. No, you may not be the air I breathe, nor the scent I have ever smelled before, but in this tiny world of possibilities, perhaps more than just a few of the complex molecules that I have dredged into my lungs, once passed your fantastic lips. You may not be the water I drink, but perhaps on its way from the heavens, through the streams, over the white rapids, into the aquifer and out of my tap perhaps several drops had the perchance to roll down your soft cheek. You are not the ground I walk on trudging through my petty pace from day to day, but perhaps I step on a pebble once trod upon by your graceful shoe. You see, in this world of nothing but sweet possibilities I am forced to cling fervently to the belief that as soon as the fates align instead of just simply passing by my other half of soul, we will collide, combine. I hold the fervid belief that you would be the blood in my veins, and the tender that sets it on fire so sweetly, the life that we were meant to live, that we could be the world, and our love the best thing in it. Until then I shall dream of you in the past memory the black and white; and of a future, in colors that have not been invented of yet. ~Indomitably Me
Posted on: Sun, 15 Sep 2013 08:34:35 +0000

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