Saturday, 18 September 2010

Je t'aime

Je t'aime

Have you ever fallen so deeply in love with someone
the very thought of them possesses you, obsesses you?
You seek every morsel from the table,
every scrap, each half eaten remnant,
until,in a final, unbridled, unhinged
reciprocation of that rabid affection,
you tumble, without reason,
into a rabbit hole of ecstasy.
The flame rises from the pit,
consuming you completely.
The mere presence of the idea of them,
sends your palpitating heart, racing,
threatening to pull it from your chest,
bursting in a blaze upon the ground,
consuming all in an ashen flame of wanton desire.

The absence of them,
The eternity of that dark and desperate place,
flings your soul, flailing, into a pit of despair.
A place where the knot in your gut,
rises, lifting into a choking lump in your throat,
around which hangs a noose of your own design.
Screaming as it tightens.
Echoes of a gathering storm,
a foul and pestilent tempest,
that rolls in from the edge of insanity.
forged in the distance of time and space,
that empty place between you.
...and you know if it lengthens,
when you drop from that gallows,
it will break your neck.

Love comes in waves.
Crashing over you titanically.
Leaving you awash,
in a sea of uncontrollable irrationality.
You sleep,
but you don't really sleep...
you dream in a rolling sea of a foaming tide.
You long in your dreams for that breath,
the breath of your lover upon your chest...
the glint in the half light of his eye, captured,
as he blinks through the tempest,
and winks at you from across the bed,
the pillow his head now rests upon,
in the shimmering twilight of your minds eye...
in a whirling haze of kisses and sensual embraces.

You find yourself waking up,
in the half light of a half night,
a one eyed tremor ticking in your mind,
wondering why you are alone,
when the only thought you have,
in that moonlit space,
is of this mans hands holding you,
firmly rooted, enfolding your softness,
as you, pushing into him with all your might,
rage, with the fire in your blood in that second sight

Then, When you finally have him,
when that torment of distance is broached,
and desires bridge, spans, times great divide,
those first, wet, exploratory kisses,
lashed in an unquenchable fire,
slip, and dip, in a swirling maelstrom of desire.
Your mind, cocktailized,
every hormone dumped into your trembling frame...
when that finally happens,
you realize that you have never been touched before.
You are a virgin again.
Every hand, and every man, who ever came and went,
slip into the night, shadowy phantoms...
lost in a remnant of a fractured past,
shattered and dulled,
by the sensual bliss of this mans kiss.
This, sex, that rises in tides,
crashing upon some ecstatic shore of transcendence,
blinds you, binds you,
as a sea is bound to the seething hiss upon the sand.
The blinding epiphany of it, illuminates,
not because of the way in which he now touches you,
or how you yield to him...
sinking your folds into every tautness,
for if that were so, any man would do...
no! is the core of you, awoken,
the primal essence erupting,
wildly aroused beyond all and any reason,
there is no reason, no mind, no will,
just an epiphanic moment of irresolvable ecstasy,
a divine gift, a primal union of heaven and earth,
thrusting itself through your core,
every nerve, every sinew, every fiber of your being,
trussed and bound deeply inside this man...
you are in him, you are him, he is you,
the lines and demarcations blurred eternally,
His pleasure erupting inside you as your own,
erupting inside what is left of you;
In that moment of sublime coalescence,
the gift, is the essence, of the get.
For Love has joined the game,
and you know with a certainty,
you will never, ever, be the same.

The rich and heady waters of love,
decimate the walls... torch the town,
rape and pillage the sanctity, the certainty,
all will, strewn in a corpulent rubble,
beneath its flaming waves.
Every petty sensuality, exposed as shadow and sham,
to disappear forever in a fever of truth.
In the dazzling light of complete surrender,
a trust divine, two souls entwined, Love Rules.

Every tawdry orgasm,
each and every titillating simulacrum,
becomes a pale and impotent shadow,
caught in the dazzling light of this numinosity.
It demands everything and promises nothing...
but without it, nothing is all thats left.
Without it, no one can write of pleasure,
and truly understand what pleasure means.
Without it, there is no life...
just a dull pettiness,
a failure of existence,
a wasteland of wasted moments.
Without Love to stoke the sensual hearth,
all Eros is death.
Death, born on the wings of fleeting desire,
shattered in the depths of a void without fire.
Love, life in the heart and soul of another.
The 'other', your lover,
In that man, whose hands are a memory,
strangling your every waking moment,
choking the air from that place,
in that face of forgetfulness,
blue, in the distractions of you.
You try to forget,
but even on that gallows drop,
you cannot stop.
There is no forgetting Love.

je t'aime

© Richard Michael Parker 2010

1 comment:

RMP said...

Artwork: Auguste Rodin’s, 'Eternal Spring'