i dont want to fuck her i want to make love to her mind pour her a glass of wine and just let her unwind ask her how her day went as i massage her feet meticulously listening over my own heart beat having long discussions because she can get deep thats intimacy to me no need to jump in the sheets because i dont want to fuck her i want to make her feel perfect giving her my heart if she promises not to hurt it i'll let her know shes beautiful several times a day and tell her how much i love it when she walks that certain way i'd run my fingers through her hair in an attempt to act smooth when all i really want to do is just kiss her tattoo BUT i dont want to fuck her not that it would be a chore i dont mind fucking but i'd rather have much more
You young lass, possess a remarkable ability to cause me to suddenly become aware of sitting motionless, and slack jawed in awe with scant awareness of for how long that state has been existant. This is a quintessently beautiful poem, and deliciously sweet, this bespeaks a mentality striving for humanness (an ideal in my opinion not evident in the majority of naked apes wandering this ball of barely encrusted molten iron, hurtling through the unknowable vastness of space at 370 miles per second.(32 million miles a day)) I thank you for putting this here today, a day which has seen me struggling to turn around the abysal slide I was in upon reaching my 26,298,000 minute of existance at one p.m, the half century mark. Sure it's just a number but it's a number with a lot of impact when it applies to ones lifes' time position. In anycase (damn I was actually getting maudlin, hmmm better look around here maybe getting "set in my ways' and that would never do.) I would like to offer something for your "lifes' time" consideration, but first let you know that in my opinion this datum rates about a 9 on my personal "authority of information" scale. (0:believe- 10:fully convince) This means that I am willing to say that I know this with near certainty, would argue for its' veracity adamantly, and that it would take information that had considerable empirical evidence, that somehow invalidated the reasoning upon which the concept is built, to dissuade me of it's actually reperesenting with high fidelity the natural, and unnatural phenomena to be presented. To "fall in love' is almost without exception to enter a pathological state, add to it the propaganda, and brainwashing of Madison Ave. and Hollyweird and it is near certain the experience of this poem will not be had. I feel that the very metaphor its' self alludes to this, "Falling in Love" um excuse me but what is one of h. sapiens greatest inborn fears?? We really are not that far from being treedwellers in jungles, what was it about falling that built such a grade A fear deep into our psyches? It certainly wasn't getting hurt, we used to bounce pretty good, might it have been that it was the predators that hung around below our ancestors that we feared, Death is the ultimate selection pressure. Also there is this about falling, it stops, usually quite rudely. There is another way to approach this though, and that is to do so with eyes wide open, so if the chemistry arouses this very potent, extremely behavior effecting emotional state, we can, with effort consciously step into the process and instead of "falling" we may be, "becoming in love", becoming is appealing, becoming is growing, and becoming has no definite end. Your poem speaks to this kind of love, I know this for it spoke to me of the love I shared (this may seem contradictory, but there were extenuationg circumstances) with my exwife 20 some years ago. In becoming in love there are always two individuals, both authentically who they are, and here is the way you can tell the difference between becoming and falling. Not only do you have each individual still growing in their individuality, but there is a third entity that comes to be, and that is "us" Love is major meta-majik, it is also perhaps the most supreme of human experiences, to fully know, and be fully known by an other, to dwell in another human and to have another in you, this is true ecstacy. For behold, faith, hope, love, the greatest of these is agape, (Paul the Apostle, First Corinthians 13; and another excellent tapistry of the metaphor by one of my favorite wordweavers, Willy the Shake; let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. W. Shakespear sonnet 116. Most fervantly do I wish for you one day to this love find. Knowing what little, but then again much I know of you from just reading some of your poetry, you are a remarkable young human, being female. I am well aware that I am rather "long fingered"(well long winded hardly makes sense here, hey?), but you blessed me with this poem of yours this day, and I felt that perhaps what I have come to know in 50 years, well it may be of some use to you. Good fortune, peace, and wellness young rebel lass, sine cera Epiphelion, First Knight, The EverQuest AKA
LOL^ Wow i'm flattered i really am and if it doesnt work out with the subject of the poem i'll totally marry you.
raw! my feeling tend to fluctuat between what you portrayed in your poem and actually just wanting to raw dog it with a girl. very nice.
I quite enjoyed reading this poem... mostly, because I bet if I said those things to my girlfriend she'd totally let me fuck her in the ass. Thanks a lot!
Uh... okay. Anal. Great. Whatever. You've got flow. You know... you could.. probably blast some hardcore beats, easy. I just loved how that all runs together. (gah, everything I say sounds like sarcasm... but I'm not being sarcastic).
Most love poems I read are over-sentimental Valentines' rhymes. Not this! I love it, I love it, I love it. It has a great flow and reads really well out loud. Peace, Aidan
