Will

The last reference I've made with nature was a past love
Now that love has broken...
And... I'm on the sail again;tasting the exciting splash of frisky raindrops
And now, with the memory of poetry and moonshine 

Now with the reality of handsome hands kissing every beat of my heart...
To function...
To survive...
To open....
I'm appalled...
Like, a featherless bird that fell from the nest to the floor
To be satisfied and sufficient with the surgeon of your soul
Your beautiful, luminous spirit

Blowing  puffs of air ...as what a child would do... to a balloon
You innocently, obliviously...giving it the power to eventually ascend for the world to know
And in its innocence; there's a flame of sincerity
This is what you do...

Oblivious... to the intimacy with which this rescue creates
Innocent... to the lip of your persona only inches away from the cheek of my gratitude

Innocent to the turn of my face to you
Giving reality a pen
And she's saying:                               
as we breathe and stare into each other's eyes
As we draw closer...to each other...
My pen is praying...with my heart

Please, don't make me choose

Simply, I hate to lose you
My spiritual mate
We've cushioned the fall of emotions
We've listened and nursed the harshness of events

Don't make me choose your lips and lose a heart...my heart
Lips which are the temporary in exchange for the permanent
Trust...that is cemented
If you shatter this cement..you'll shatter me
I will fight for you...as you are for me
I feel for you...as you do me
But you must know...like your spirit which is bandage to my wound
Our pure spirits are platelets to a laceration called weakness 
Pure spirits which is a leveled yolk
Keys to a sober, untainted and unquenchable love