keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  to is what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

Brush painting his features
Irregular
Heart aches
Skin itches
Irreparable
There's still war outside
Irrelevant
Feels likes I'm lost in him
Irresponsible
Soft touches
Steady steps
Irremovable
His smile, his smell, his secrets
Irresistible
Intertwining our lives and bodies
Irrevocable
Strong presence, whispers, support
Irreplaceable
All of this is so ethereal

Irrational

i usually try
to start work
at 09:00
but today
a streak of sun
across the middle
of the floor
was so appealing
i had to lie
stretched out
and splayed
in that pool
of warmth
within seconds
of being down
the dog nosed
at my ear
and slumped
at my side
his chin resting
on my arm
perhaps
seeking closeness
the comfort of
my presence
or maybe
simply protesting
a hint that he wished
to stretch out
where i was lay
as clouds crept
across the sky
to steal our sunlight
he shifted his weight
let out a deep-lunged sigh
but stayed at my side

Morph
Morph into anything
Into a nightmare
Into a pleasant dream
A morning bird
Or a moonlit bedroom
Fear of handcuffs
Or whisper's trust
Into an old man
Or newborn flower
Stain of coffee
Or withering grass

Whatever
You'll morph into
In my dream

I'll still love you

Every other second, you move your hands
elegant, pliable, alive and strong
you twist them into a knot
and rub with thumbs
I dare not look away
these hands are holding
nothing less than a ribbon
leading straight into my heart
and there it gets irrevocably tangled
and there it pulls me deeper into this madness
I'm in love with your hands
they live their own intruguing life
while you think and laugh...

I’m sorry I’m so clumsy
Some days it seems like the world is fighting me at every step
And I’m losing the battle
I stumble over every stubborn staircase
I trip over my tongue like an uneven rug
Every new set of walls is a labyrinth I get lost in
Every move I make is disjointed and uncertain
My fingers and feet flail when I’m carrying precious, fragile things
And before I know it I’m sprawled on the floor
Surrounded by shattered fragments
Bruised and aching
Burning with humiliation and frustration

But I’ll try to be careful.
If you will be brave enough to trust me
I will try to keep my steps in line and my path straight
I will try to find the rhythm in the song of my surroundings

I will try to see beyond my limitations
My faults, my failures, my frequent falls
I will try to look up and see the beauty in the world
Instead of staring at my feet in fear
I may trip at times
But I will not be trapped in trepidation

I ask for your patience
I am trying to be patient with myself too
My best is all I can really do
And I will do what I can to be the best for you