Thursday, September 22, 2011

Daily Poem #150

#150

Sitting next to this
beautiful man,
I thought
to myself;
what if in love
we had no senses?

To smell
the very unique
smell of such a
special soul
would be
no longer.

And how else
to miss another
so perfectly
without
the remains
of their scent
left behind?

To taste
another's saliva
even,
the spit swapping
slow kisses
we too often
find ourselves
drowning in,
would be
no longer.

And what else
to remind us
of the nights
to come,
then lips swollen
from the hunger
of such
taste?

To touch,
or to feel
the touch of
another's skin
against your own
and the textures
of what
two bodies
so easily
make together
would be
no longer.

And in what 
other landscape
could this
magnetic pull
be made from
if not
from the touch
of one
another?

To hear
the sound
of even
the others
presence,
and how
overwhelming
one's voice
could be
in a whisper
to your
ear
would be
no longer.

And how else
to feel
such peace,
when the
sound
of another's
voice
could lift
your soul
to immeasurable
heights?

To see
such a soul
in front of
your eyes,
a vision
waited upon
by one
so much in love
would be
no longer.

And to when
would you
find
such a thing
if there were
no sight
to search
these plains of
life?

An unbearable
thought,
to have
no senses.

To have
never
smelled another's
being
nor tasted
their skin
and felt such
a unique
caress against
one's own
lips.

To never
hear
the laughter
or see
the smiles
you work
so hard to
accomplish
to be.

What makes
one soul
fall in love
with another soul,
if not for
these
feelings
we find within
and around us?

To have only
one sense,
would be
a fine deal
to this soul
I have
acquired.

For that
is all I would
need
if it meant
he would
be here
with me.

But to have
none,
one's heart
I could imagine
could break
from the
emptiness
within it.

And so I
stared,
at this man
next to me.

Took in his
smell as if
it were
my last
and kissed his
soft skin,
only to taste
exactly
what it was
I was
looking for.

His smile,
his love,
his voice
telling me
he loved me so
and the answer
to my reply
of loving him
so deeply
as well.

In love
there are
only
answers,
but
of love
and with it's
existence,
there is none;
there is only
trust,
in something
unknown.

...............




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