Darling
or
The physics of love.
Who are we really ? Who really rules the roost of human understanding ?
You seemed taller when I met you, and for a long time afterwards. What has changed and why did it change ? When did you become who you are now and why didn't I ever notice that in the beginning. Were you always there, just needing my arrival, or have my eyes learned to love. How do you command my highest self, who gave me this order to see, to look, to learn ? Did I choose to love, is that what happened ? What of my life, what of the things I think ? Does any of that matter, or will it just be subsumed, or should I say devoured ? Do you know what happened, are you even confused ? Why should I just be nothing more than a servant ? Who has the authority to reduce I to you, is it you ? Do you think I can do anything ? Why should I have no weapons, no armour, no greaves.
There is no target lest I slay me. The very center of my world is hollow, needing only you, how did this happen, was it me ? Why would I do that.
All these questions need only a bottle of wine, the colour your preference Darling, for answers, perhaps the light of yonder moon would add the right apparel of understanding.
Why do I need you, do you need me ? Is that something I don't need to know ? Just say, I will do. A simple squire to you, no, less even, a servant, bound.
And what of you, is that illusion, when I catch you just beyond the doorway of my ken, looking at my eyes loving you.
Is this me, or you.
I am lost. Perhaps a Haiku or two <g> |
