montepulciano (besotted musings)

Consider the origin of being as seated firmly
in the dark and pristine epicenter of the body –
holding every fleeting and persistent thought, fantasy, and raw reflex.

How close do you allow another to get to the core –
what within can be shared,
and what must be simply left
unheard, unseen, unfelt by another?

How is this gravity measured – in weird blackness?

Perhaps there is some element in the relationship
between two that must be left still and alone…
within the depths of their individual being.

It is unfathomable and multihued –
anything imaginable and it’s opposite are there
in the crackling shadows.

Somewhere, at some time,
along the length of those released vines of energy,
we allow some part of ourselves
to intertwine and tangle with those of another.

But just as the tips of the sun dance warmly on our skin,
so the source of these rays would sooner incinerate us.

The melding of cores as a union of one
requires the destruction of two.
Protecting what you are seems at times
to be the antithesis
of cultivating what you’ll be with another.

But it is balance…
from the black center to the many shades of gray.
Yes, love springs forth from lips
before they are kissed .

tis nothing if not heardEmail this to someoneTweet about this on TwitterShare on Facebook0Print this pageShare on Google+0