Fish poem
I am. Cold with my knowledge of water.
Everything that is. Ever-changing
and I know it despite preconceptions
of my ignorance and my short memory.
I do know that you might love me
and philosophically looking at it, not always, with no forevers,
no lifetimes to swear.
I am aware of the waves and the strange patterns they follow
though they aren�t really strange if you could see
from where I�m looking, or at the time I have been.
Patterns. I have mine. You have yours.
Perhaps that is why I long for someone whose hands
flow smoothly over mine as I write.
Someone whose skin is like water to mine.
Someone I might not recognize,
might never know if I choose to be
my self, emotionally attached to the world I am in,
unable to philosophize beyond myself.
the ocean and I are one when I am.
Meanwhile, as I take my break from this being,
I look at the window from outer sea,
and realize that your patterns aren�t entirely the same as mine
though they might seem as, yes, they are now, equilateral,
parallel, even in their peaks and falls, we are the same.
I laugh when you laugh. I cry with you. I sing with you.
Perhaps, with great possibility, I might die now if you did.
But later will be drinking coffee with possibility,
your hands or mine will sway against this way,
not to our liking or consented insanity, even before our eyes,
before we even take notice of them,
our patterns might take to their own courses.
So, with eight seconds left on my memory account, my lifetime this time,
I give you my hand to write upon as you write
these lines with me or more so, without me,
because you are this time,
or as I write without you yet entirely with you
because now I am myself, you and i.
I am you. Now. I am yours.
I challenge you, love
with all your power over mortal things
and your graces with tempting voices singing
my soul to infinite songs of possibilities
bound to overwhelm my human heart, my fickle soul,
and of promises that are half true as
only marriage with you will
fulfill its other half and verify its truth. Tricky you are,
love, I challenge you.
I challenge you, love
to come with your rain
and soak my shoulders with lightness
sipping through the pores of my skin
and to sneak into my red fist chambers
and light scented candles everywhere within
causing me double vision of myself�
one looking at you, the other staring at me, with you.
I challenge you, love.