The way you make me feel;
Feel something unknown, unreal
To me.
I’ve never been great at feeling,
But I’m great at dreaming
Of you.
Weak at the knees,
Every time you articulate
Those whispered words;
Whispered into being
As if it’s not just you
I’m seeing.
Some higher power,
Sent from on high to tease
And to please and satisfy
Every fractured and twisted desire;
Like having not a thrall,
But a partner.
Partners in crime against life,
Against the pervasive insanity
Of them:
Those who meander through life’s dreams;
Following plans writ for them
On screens.
You’ve opened up different doors;
Different chores,
Different floors to fall on:
Just keep pouring that good stuff
You exude;
Blur the lines I held,
Long before I fell
Into the purest place;
Held tight in your warmth –
Your foggy embrace.
C H Mackie 