You

You know who you are.

You know this is for you.

It is all the things I want to share

But do not dare.

You came into my life

And I into yours

There was sand beneath our feet

Sea breeze in our hair

And rhythm in our bones.

Shy at first

Then all in

Sharing

Daring to

let each other in.

Me knowing you

You knowing me

We sat under the stars

Among the coconut trees.

We chased waterfalls

And waded through rice fields

Edging ever closer

To the feelings inside

You opened up to me

Trusted me

And this helped me look at what was lurking inside of me

Begging to be free

As I slept on your shoulder

You let me ever closer

To what was inside

You opened up my eyes

To a world beyond the norm

(what’s normal anyway?)

An inside joke

Or two were shared

And it was obvious you cared

And I about you

I’m sorry that we’re through

We only begun

And I had to run

To chase an old dream

Trying to figure out what was ‘me’

When I knew then

I was exactly where I should be

With who I should be

But always wanting more

Never being sure (of me)

I said no to being free

Of my past for my present

Yet know I hold you close

To this heart of mine

And under the full moon we will always be combined

For that’s where we sat

And you were for me

And I for you

For that time was my forever with you

2

Dancing on the perimeters of paranoia

Avoiding the plunge below the surface

Of the mouth’s edge

The dissolution

Of the embodiment

Of an all out tussle

Of the conscious

Constantly forsaking

the tango

Of the waltz it plays with reality

but is this real

Restate, initiate

The initial ending

That will endlessly be there

To doom and kingdom come

And after all that it has done

The depth, the danger, the disintegration

The conscious plays

If it remains

influenced

by the boundaries it is allowed to be placed in

Primitive being

Backlash to the relentlessness of the twists and

turns

swings and

roundabouts

But what about the whereabouts

Of the rhyme and the reason

The lurking underneath

Of the bare bones minimum

the walking of the truth

the aching of the vision;

Lest we forget

the all important being

the sub to the conscious.