" SOMETIMES "
Sometimes I feel I am the summer storms that blow her off the trees.
To fall so gentle and gracefully like light pink snow on the breeze.
And yet, in this beautiful action, she will wither and disappear or worse be trodden under feet.
Sometimes I think I am the tree, standing strong to support her needs.
Providing a safe haven to relax, to grow, to blossom so that she may become as wonderfully magnificent as she can be.
Her internal-external beauty and radiance enthralls me, captivates and goes through me.
She holds me. I can not run away or escape.
But do I really want to.
Confused.
I could break her. Crush her petals.
Chase her and force her away from me.
It would be oh so easy.
But I can not, want not, will not.
Hurting her is hurting me.
Hurting is her would be killing me.
What to do?
This scares me, she scares me, opening scares me.
Break the walls, keep the walls, make a hole in the walls.
Move forward, move back, move closer, move away, move nothing, move to stay.
Pause, wait, go.
Take the plunge, sit on my hands.
What to do? What to do?
I am honest but should I be.
Honesty can hurt but honesty is me.
I want to be faithful but can I be.
Maybe I will not.
Ever be.
Need to be.
Point may break, point to change, point to think.
The point may be major or may be mundane.
Oh but but, but oh.
The thought of her makes my heart flutter.
The sight of her makes my heart pound like a sledgehammer.
The feel of her body against mine, next to mine.
Her fragrance all around me, covering me like a perfect blanket.
The sweet honey taste of her on my lips.
I die and am reborn with each breath, each touch, each taste.
Each time, every time.
Sometimes I am sure.
Sometimes I am confused
She is always a wonder, a mystery, magic.
Sometimes I am the summer storms.
Sometimes I am the tree.
Syrbastyian
