Love, can I treat you like I treat my jacket? Taking you wherever I go, showing the love I have for you through my sleeves and tuning you to my body, pulsating throbs of my heart as our two frictions force reaction.
I want to have you close to me, heavy hood be your hair as it sinks close to me, covering my neck with loving protection, covering my shoulders with your arms entwined with mine as if we were truly one, covering my length and letting me know that we are at a temperature of comfort and ability.
I want your body to clothe me, zip up tight and never let go, hugging me with all the comfort in the world and lifting yourself as to be a silent watcher to me, a shield to my being from the enemies that threaten us.
I want your hands to be the pockets, close yet separate, deeply rooted as if it were your faith placed near my sides. Holding me as I hold you.
I want our love to be the zipper, running through both our forms, creating a new feeling, making a new being, forging us.
Yet who are we? Who are we to claim to be so close in cloth yet so young in mind, so strong in emotion and so weak in body?
We are the very fabric of nature, hooking to machines that form the sewed outlines of other such fabrics, forming the earth and inciting war among our emotion.
We walk through the public proudly, you clinging to me and I, chest puffed like a bird in mating season, acquiring a taste for the strange looks and stranger people who deem to judge us based on their understanding.
Hot weather, cold weather, mild and comfortable weather. Rain or snow, sleet, hail, or hell’s heat, I intend to keep you close, as you are more than cloth covering me, you are the being caressing me, kissing my spirit and cradling my heart in the warm grasps of your fabrics, pressed closely to my chest in an attempt to make me feel better about myself, hiding my form so that none shall see what I deem stay hidden.
And I shall love you, I shall do all that I can to keep you safe and keep you near, mend you and wash you, clearing your mind and body of the impure, soaking your fabric and drying them out once more. Tonguing your soul while hugging you back, rubbing your threaded flaws and letting you know that they are necessary, that they are noted and left as forgotten. Unafraid to dawn you and worthy to criticize yet keeping grateful to have you when the nights get cold and my soul needs your warmth.
The world is a cruel place, and it gets worse every day, which is why, my love, I want you to be my jacket, and I shall be yours.
Tonights night vent, I literally just pasted it here, hopefully I'm finished, but I still have some emotion left, I think I'm going to think another up