You followed me long before
I even knew what want was and
everything within you was unknowable,
I would’ve broken your entire heart
just to give you what was left of mine.
Some part of me is still waiting.
It’s only when the wind blows now
and thunder bellows from above
as a distant pang groaning
that I finally remember how
you tasted like the rain.
Like some memory of sweetness
trembling against my ears
as my fingers reach the hilt,
depths seizing as if you had been
waiting for years to finally be reached.
Your head would burrow
into my craned neck then
and you’d feel my pulse fluttering
beneath the skin your lips are pressed to,
feeling what is always beating for you.
I didn’t know until then that
such a pure want could turn so feral,
that you’d unchain this starving animal,
free from its confines and stroked fast,
quickly nestled inside and something
like a primal fury emerged between us.
I didn’t know until then that a body
could be like an unknowable territory,
wanting the touch to not be forgotten
upon what can never truly be conquered,
such a claim can only be released inside,
forever exchanged and invisible to all else.
I always believed that relentless current
would always follow after you left,
a warm river to always flow in you,
exhilarated from flesh finally
sensing it has been so invited,
terrified that such a thing can be
pulled away after the mystery.
It’s only when the wind blows now
and stirs the embers long since buried
that I finally remember your heart
was thunder longing and screaming
when pressed so tightly to mine,
how you tasted like the rain.
Like some memory of sweetness found
somewhere within the storm waiting,
clasping as if you waited years
to be reached and never denied.
I would still break your entire heart
to keep it entwined with mine,
to longer remain so unknowable.
That’s what follows me long after
I already know what love really is.
And some part of me is still waiting.
