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 Nov 2010 Emily Von Shultz
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Can I come to you as I am,
in secret-
brimming with the need to be held?
Can I lay hot whispers on your skin
then taste how they make you feel?
Can I show you how to touch me,
how hard to press?
If I cry
can I hide salty tears
in the soft curve of your neck?
Can I bite, ever so gently,
before I scream?
Can I be your lover,
without you loving me?
Can I, please?
Each day I rise when needed
and do the things that I must do
But the hours pass in dusky grey
until I hear from you

Your words create a sunrise
that I alone can see
and briefly I feel special
and that there is hope for me

So many times I taste the bitter pill
of disappointment and regret
Your kindness, love and friendship
reminds me life’s not over yet

And yet with all the words I have
I know not where to start
to show you just how deeply
you dwell within my heart

If we were to stand together
in my eyes you’d plainly see
all the things I cannot tell you
about just what you are to me

As even in the darkest night
starless, black as coal
thoughts of you are fireworks
casting rainbows on my soul
I know
It is possible
to have someone
stuck in your head
if her name is the beat
and her eyes are the melody
and the lyrics are flowing in her veins.
She is the chorus, the bridge and the breakdown
the unfinished piece that has driven the composer insane.
And she is stuck in my head.
As I sit here in my

Ivory Tower

Holding the cards but none of the power

It dawns on me; why am I here?

Logic and reason just doesn’t seem clear


Cars, Holidays and Money do not mean a dot

Yet there’s envy in your eyes

You want what I’ve got

Do think that my kingdom is happy and gay?

Sun always shines

A life so divine

Well… you know the old saying…you know what they say

If you think it’s so great…walk in my shoes for a day


Tedious boredom
Fruit full fit to burst
Never a pleasure
Always a curse



So next time you crave my life

Dear Friend

Close your eyes tightly…pretend

And remember as you sit in my Ivory Tower

You’re holding the cards but none of the power.
Some minor character in a TV Sunday play
Was asked to pick a day, (just one mind you)
That he would wish to live through once again.

And, do you know what?
Even though he seemed quite sane
He could not think of one.

Yet, don’t think this odd,
For even God (speaking on a late night show)
Was slow to answer.
And when He did, admitted that the question
Had outwitted even Him.
“The past’s been grim.” He said.
Adding, that the question was an unfair test.
But that, if pressed, He guessed
The best was still to come.

©James Rainsford 2010
Copyright. No reproduction in any medium without permission.
Contact: james@jamesrainsford.com
You're the words of love
with every turn of the page
of my life, that burns
bright in the night,
and sets the day's scene
just right,
for the love you
bring, starts the story
to sing, and the melody
drifts through every chapter
like mists surrounding me,
and you continue the tune,
with every page
that I view,
from the beginning,
until the end,
and then I re-read
it all over again,
the book that you've
entitled, "I Love You"
-because the story is true:
"I love you, too!"

__
the book:
http://beautyineverything.com/5092820337
d.
13 nov. 10
for "M."
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