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I want to be a lost poem in a stranger’s coat pocket, that conveys the importance of you.

To assure you of my desire, to assure you of dreams. I want all the possibilities of you in writing.

I want to give you your reflection, I want your eyes on me, I want to travel to the lightness with you and stay there, and I want everything before you…

…everything before you to follow us like a trail behind me.

I want never to say goodbye to you, even on the street corner or the phone.

I want, I want so much… I’m breathless.

I want to put my power into a poem to burn a hole in your pocket so I can sew it.

I want my words to scream through you. I want the poem not to mean that much.

And I want to contradict myself by accident, and for you to know what I mean.

I want you to be distant and for me to feel you close, I want endless days when it’s day and… nighttime never to end when it’s night.

I want all the seasons in one day. I want the sun to set before us and come up in front of us.

I want water up to our waists and to be drenched by the rain, up to our ankles with holes in our shoes.

…with holes in our shoes. I want to think your thoughts because they’re mine.

I want only what’s urgent with you.

I want to get in the way of the barriers and I want you to be a tough guy when you’re supposed to,

like you do already.

…when you’re supposed to. And I want you to be tender, like you do already.

And I want us to have met for a reason and I want that reason to be important.

And I want it to be bigger than us, I want it to take over us.

I want to forget. I want to remember us.

And when you say you love me I don’t want to think you really mean New York City, and all the fun

we have in it.

And I want your smile always, and your grimaces too.

I want your scar on my lips, and I want your disappointments in my heart.

I want your strength in my soul and I want your soul in my eyes.

I want to believe everything you say, and I do.

And I want you to tell me what’s best when I don’t know.

And when you’re lost I want to find you.

And when you’re weary I want to give you steeples and cathedral thoughts and coliseum dreams.

I want to drag you from the darkness and kneel with you exhausted with the blinding light blaring on us…

and…

-from the film Chelsea Walls

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which I will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh…And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new 

—ee cummings

 

God, but I love this poem. I want the last two lines as a tattoo, if only I could figure out where to put them.

I, being born a woman

I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body’s weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn wtih pity, — let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

It’s all I have to bring today –

This, and my heart beside –

This, and my heart, and all the fields –

And all the meadows wide –

Be sure you count – should I forget 

Some one the sum could tell –

This, and my heart, and all the Bees 

Which in the Clover dwell. 

~ Emily Dickinson

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