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Oct 2019
When we die I hope we are reborn as ourselves.
I'd love to meet and fall in love with you
     All over again.

I wish I could unzip your skull and
Caress your brain until you drifted off to
     Sleep. Feeling your dreams

Weave, the circuits entangle and worry
    Unstress at my fingertips.
I wish I could kiss every bad memory

Until there is only us.
I wish we were both happy all the time
And I know that's impossible, but some days

You make it feel so possible, so near, my dearest.

I wish we could float in space with no other company,
Drift until the earth gets lost with the stars, held tightly

At one another's wrists. Beating. Beating. Beating

     Condensed sea's and eidetic sky's.
        I wish I could display my love properly;

Beyond words, beyond flesh,

We are two thirds of a lifetime

And it's one I'll never grow sick of
For as long as you are in my company.

For the moment, hold me close, hold me closer
And let us dream alongside one another, knowing
      Our dreams consist of the other;

Their well-being, their sacrifices, their fears, theirs gripes--
   Their flaws and perks held deep and impeccably still

As a jade flower enwombed to the rarest, blackest of jewels.

As a pulsating constance. As a spectral echo. As a lover
Found and never wanting to fall lost ever again. Yet,

When I die I hope I am rewinded back to my very
First memory. I would love to forget you. Love to hold you
For the very first time for the billionth consecutive time

Without even knowing...

I would love to feel the emptiness that was a world
   Before it was made beautiful, feeling life become something
To be cherished. From first sight to the last, never let me go

And pass alongside me,
Moving throughout me

Some days I think I feel your every heartbeat.
Some days I sense you can feel mine. Be mine and let me be yours.
Whatever may come, whatever may go.
Stay with me and we can outshine any circumstance.

You are my circumstance. You are my beating heart.
You are my life and you my reason for wanting to love myself.
A bit serial killer-ly, hence the title. Love is so hard to express. I think that's the takeaway from this poem. I hope it came out as messily as intended.
J J
Written by
J J
241
     --- and Traveler
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