You flirt with me, not my feelings.
My heart knows what it practice full well.
It deceives all including itself—
An ocean, a serpent, a sly moon.

You flirt with me, I think, and my body says so.
My hormones, bubbling to the brim.
I pull your waist and not your hand, your curved
Waist, and you should notice that.

My love does not go where the body goes,
It is spirit. And should you open yours
To me, we will know what it is
To be one, to be omitted to the known world.

If my hands camp over your body,
Know, that it is by our doing,
And it tears my being into pieces,
Exposing itself to a great misery—

Parts of it, in agony, in ecstasy,
Sleeping by the supple, and the subtlety,
Burning with the shadows, weeping
Bitterly over losing me.

But when I love, love, I use my soul,
The stars will attest to that.
If I lie, I lie with the world,
And if I should, it would be poetry,
It would be true.

So wait for me, for I love you.
And I am coming for you,
So wait for me.*

© 2015 J.S.P.