Infusion
I saw your eyes last night and it was all I could seethe beauty and the magic and all the fucking mystery and
I wanted to look at you more than I should because it's
something I can't get enough of-- even if I could.
all last night I was up and today I was there and for the
first time in a while I want to stare at all the details
and take them in until they belong to me and until the
details themselves long for me.
for once, I want to be a part of it all, the chaos is making
me cry and sometimes, don't we all want to die?
I am constantly on a cloud. constantly high.
making pictures from wrappers and old poems and trying to
manipulate all the material objects I can in order to understand
things, waiting and waiting and waiting for wings
knowing that may be something only you can bring and wishing
it wasn't something so volatile--
it seems like I can only take it for a little while before I
want to explode, before I can't control how I make myself implode,
before I crawl into myself and wait for nuclear winter so I can
feel cold.
but since I feel like soon it may be warm, I can take it, I can take
all of it and not break and not feel like I am trying to conform. maybe instead of myself
I can crawl into you
and know you are alive because I can feel
your heart beat, too--
it's what I know I want to do
infuse myself
with you.
