i'd like to speak about love
for the lovers of the world
and be proud among the blessed.
for once innocent, my eyes are now in awe
of its grip upon my heart, my *****.
i am its voice urgent to scream
the language rises within me in wine bubbles
escaping my once cold chest
where i hold you, cup your face
and draw the rapture for my words.
i'd like to speak about love
in behalf of all of those loving
wise and pure, tireless and raw
with permission, i will speak of love in tantric phrases.
and if they hold no meaning upon those unblessed,
they are still sacred.
for me, this is enough
you will reveal the secrets in your eyes.
i'd like to speak about love
among those surrendered in tumultuous passion
and capture the murmurs that binds the silence
of what we know.
that love can run deep
once you get past the bottom of where you dare to thread.
remember when you said you will keep me?
i held my breath
as we mix our fires, our water, our liquor, our flesh
in the cold december mountain.
i'd like to speak about love
for those of my savage, affectionate kind
who seek gravity to welcome what pours-
swirling waves of random hugs
from knowing, throbbing hearts
like the love that comes from my lips when i kiss you
at the break of dawn
and part your haggard hair to caress your mole
with intense veneration.