while you - you
are tripping over the leaves
of winter's fallen loves, and
i sit in this isolated room
with blood on the walls
listening to my own personal
cat calls echo
off the sun roof.
and we drive, underneath
the undergrowth waiting for
the next tip, the next hit, the next
screaming fit of wild passion
to consume our own meaty 
inhibitions that we try so hard to lose - 
and never can because they stick
like glue to the underside of
our bellies slowly smelting our
own golden souls into silver.
and we are, we exist like perfect
realities reflecting off each other
if i could hold you, if i could hold you
oh if i could hold you
right now i would take away all
of the uncertainty highlighted in your
brain by the glowing neon highlighters
of the city.
the city where i was born,
the city where you will die,
the city i will never forgive. 
i have lost you before i know
in some past dream you have vanished,
and being the femme object of my affection
i have pined for you,
pined for love's lost losers trying hard
to differentiate their own fucked up bondage fantasies
and awful memories of yesteryear - haunted by melodies.
i have waited a thousand broken
years for your soft light
that spills from your eyes of ice
that compels me.
and i would wait a million more
to reach centurion and hold you in
my arms, to feel the bat of your eye
lashes on the brow of my cheek, or on
the rise and slight fall of my collar bone.
oh i could give you everything and
anything if you would ask for,
but you do not ask for, you have it
all in one glance from me - even 
though i would give you more.
this is a bonding of atomic proportions -
we connected once, in our friends bed - 
our frenzied touching of bodies rumpling
and upturning the sheets like a sailing ship
hitting a reef. we connected once,
and now forever unable to disentangle ourselves
like a whirlwind combined
with a combine harvester. 
sublime, alive and ever so slightly minty
we are new beings born into each other
like smoke twisting itself up out of your
lips - never have i seen anyone smoke so
beautifully - like you are from the twenties
in a silent movie.
in a movie made from clips of romance
and beauty - with a dashing heroine and
an alphabetic hero - but without all the nostalgia.
i know that others grab your quick attention and
you sit with them a while, playing tennis and giggling.
her hand and yours brush, both flush
and the slightest surge of guilt tingles up your arms.
but my darling, - oh my love - do not feel 
too guilty for the judge and jury could never
hang, draw and quarter you, and these half loves keep us
breathing properly, they are like almost falling
off a cliff into oblivion - almost. enjoy those
moments of beauty with those girls 
- but do not tell me -
as they flush and blush and giggle
and you keep the bouncing ball bouncing
in between your soft glances,
but the lingering looks never linger long and
soon you're gone from her, and back into
bed with me

we are ultimate,
unlike anything before,
but just like everything before.
we are ultimate.