My baby my baby my honey baby
This hunger I have for you can't be alleviated
Even your touch, even your body beside mine
Even when we can get no closer possibly
I still want you with hunger that I can't express
can barely satisfy
These pangs I get
of all my latent desire building up from a day
from all my wanting, of looking, of hoping
and dreaming of you- of someone like you- of passion like this
crops up- my desire, that building latent desire
or a little flash. A flash of recognition. I remember the way you laugh
or a little slant of the head
it crops up and builds against a floodgate- to come crashing crashing down.
I want to rage with every muscle in my body
To dissimulate, pixelate, disassociate and reform inside of you-
surrounded by, mingling amongst you
To squeeze you so hard- as if maybe that will make you pop and scatter
like glitter into a billowing cloud that maybe I can crawl inside of
take those particles and spread them in my pores.
I want you my darling my darling my darling
I want you. I want to fight with you and scream and crash
and make love, laugh with you, watch you and hear you think,
watch you puzzle, I want to pixelate,
for our mutual vulnerability to deform us-
strip us down naked and I want then
I want then to make love to you.
To feel all of you inside of and surrounding me.
Your arms around my back, my neck, my head and yours,
my thighs, my throat your hair and your back
your back, I love your back- I love your arms. Your chest against mine.

And this want- this need- is transcendent of now and you there, me way over here.
We pop up together, arise out of, opt out of- together- time and spatial orientation, coordinates
for a moment, or longer- that spot free floating above the right side of your lip
and that birth mark buried in the hair of your head right before your ear
the left one, right there, your right, you're so right.
Those are the only coordinates I need right now and the space- that tiny glimpse of eternity- that neverless gasp, the gape, of your breath- between your breaths. The pit, the spot, the cradle of time- that tiny little pause- the death of it and my thousand little deaths- between your breaths and mine- is all the time I need. I need I need its all the orientation I need.
I long for. I long for you so long for you, my baby my darling, my sweet sweet sweet.

My temper- I temper myself. I must- this is, that is what we do- we temper ourselves- pick the mid-spot- that's how we survive- to temper ourselves because there's eternity at either end and we live in the middle. Life is right in the middle.
This life of you and me, our lives, our life- exists right in the middle- tempered, mortal maybe, although a glimpse here and there, right there I saw it- a glimpse above like a keyhole- a puncture in the night sky. That little impossible luminescent dot shimmering through- fools, it fools me. And gives me faith- for a moment- a moment of chance. A possibility to be fooled, to live like that, to live creating for myself- a world out of those shimmers, those luminescent dots- sacrilege to even describe them as dots, those little spots, the freckles all over your body.
I choose to live believing in this.