with regard to you becoming my lover
there is no question of whether
the how, when, and where,
is anyone’s guess.
this story doesn’t have a beginning, and i don’t know if it will have an end.
with love, there’s always the one that got away.
with lust, there’s another one that got away.
i think mine are the same.
we’re close friends, but we’ve never met.
we’re lovers, but we’ve never touched.
we’re soul-mates, but we’ve never been together.
we’re perfect together, but we’re a million miles apart.
when i was married, she was close to divorce.
when i was divorced, she had reconciled.
i break her heart.
she torments my soul.
we are impossible, and yet, we want[edit:’+ed’] it all.
a long dinner table and a gathering of friends.
crisp conversations and bursts of laughter.
bustling city lane-way restaurant.
a girlfriend of mine (who i’d never fucked) sits opposite.
she’s younger than i, of course, and is fit as a fit fiddle.
she denies the rumours of her being a lesbian.
we talk, more.
we drink, more.
she opens up, a whole lot more.
her eyes are swallowing me up, and
my cock is hard, and her foot rubs against my leg, and
she bites her lip, and
she reaches for my hand, and
“i want to fuck your wife”
tonight, i’ll drink wine and dim the lights. i’ll let you invade me, and let your memory tear me up. i’ll let you strip me bare and crazy my world. i’ll forget about never agains. i’ll remember all of those things we loved
(still love, actually)
about each other. i’ll sigh. i’ll pretend you’re with me, and i’m inside of you. in every way. i can still hear your voice. i can still see your face. i can still taste our sin. i can still feel your love.
it wasn’t the city we had always spoken about rendezvous’ing to, however
when i walked through Golden Gate Park, i still thought about fucking you against a tree, there.
i might have thought about engraving our initials into that tree, too.
i know that you know that i’m here and you should know that i want you to know that i want you, here