Float or Sink

Why is it that some men love fiercely –
Just in the beginning,
Once the quest of love – and lust –
Is done, the fire abates?

Maybe it’s true of humanity:
After you get what you want,
You don’t want it.
Marilyn once said,
If I give you the moon,
You’ll grow tired of it soon.

But then, why is it that I still
Keep reaching for what was promised?
In fact, I base all my love on it.
Why is it that as I love more
I feel yours slipping away?

Am I not a man?
Or am I not made for this world?

But I have learnt from this world:
My efforts will eventually fail,
Others shall make me feel and think;

And if it is meant to be, we’ll float,
And if it is meant to be, we’ll sink.

Do Not Touch Me

Don’t touch me,
If you do not want to.
I am more than
My love for you.
It may be full,
It can be blind,
It is what elsewhere
You will never find!

I am beautiful
And I am kind;
I have a heart;
I have a mind;
I am my body
And though it wants you –
Do not touch me,
If you do not want to.

The Coming

Insecurity is not at all flattering:
It reeks of imagined loss and current fear;
The former hasn’t happened quite yet;
The latter forgets all who hold you dear.

The night brings it back,
When lovers snore and sleep;
And all you do is gaze into the dark,
Wondering if it’s truly that deep.

Anxiety may follow suit and soon –
But –

You ejaculate in your hand!

A calm replaces the tumult
And fear is no longer that grand.

Loss still remains. So you bear it;
You recall you have borne it before!
You understand you can and will bear it,
Even if life makes it erupt once more.