Monday, October 18, 2004

To Not Let Go

If you are with me,
you are with me
with or without me
my mind stained with you
speaking of you
Your name tatooed on my forehead
My death bed, my breath spread,
your time is my time,
when you sleep, I sleep
when you dream I dream
when you wake, I wake
when you come, I came
When our hearts ly together
they beat in time, like a rhythmic rhyme
like a freestyle profile,
when you break down and cry
I will cry
If you would wrap your arms around me
I would grab ahold of you
Grab and
Not let go. . .Not let go. . .Not let go. . .

I'll hold on until the sun seizes to shine
and there is nothing but darkness and even then. . .I'll still hold on
Hold on until the waves no longer break
and the tides disappear
and there is nothing of the ocean but dry sand
and even then,
I'll still hold on, holding on to what you are offering
Holding on to Not let go. . .
Not let go. . .Not let go. . .

And when your hands caress my face,
I curl like a kitten
pressing my cheek closer to your hand
your baby soft hand
my cheek screams,
one more stroke, one more
like a crackhead begging for their next toke
When your lips let out my name
I can only be in vain to say it again, say my name
flirt with me. . .flirt from across the room
or over a telephone wire and each word I'll hold onto
and not let go. . . not let go. . .not let go. . .

I will sizzle like this morning's pancakes
when I lay down thinking of you
I melt like the velveeta cheese in the microwave,
when I lay down thinking of you
I want to create a world for you to escape to
I don't want you to escape from me but to me. . .
I want to love you and hold you to not let go. . .
not let go. . .not let go. . .

3 Comments:

Blogger BM, The Necessary Movement said...

I remember taking a road trip with my friend Cara to Boston. Her and I were listening to a lot of Leonard Cohen on the drive up. During the song “I’m your man” I looked over at her while we both sang. She looked so happy with her eyes pressed shut. It made me smile seeing her sing like Stevie Wonder. I asked her “what’s up?” She told me she likes to pretend his songs were written for her. I thought that was a sweet thing to say. Your love poems are like that. I think they make the reader wish they were the inspiration behind your words! Great writing! I'm happy you started a blog!

9:01 AM  
Blogger Azathoth said...

BM is right. This sounds much like what I feel for my Demon. It's like you found the words that I don't have the grace to say and put them together in a form I could never speak. Congatulations. Of course now I'm going to end up thinking about her for the rest of the night. Damn.

10:23 PM  
Blogger Kumari said...

Wow!

11:31 AM  

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