Rather Be
Love...
What will it take? what am I expecting, honestly
from such an inappropriate word.
Where would I rather be
At the saturday market sucking down honey sticks
Padding down damp Seattle sidewalks
to the swingset only used when
I'm alone and in love.
This high up, can I fall hard enough to blackout?
Will I be allowed such respite? What am I expecting
honestly, from someone like this.
I'd rather be roof-hopping in Mykonos, across islands, across continents
stopping only for the majesty of the Cappadocia sunrise
Watching those ascending droplets of washed fabric, far far up
awakening romance in resting lovers.
Will they fall hard enough to blackout?
Where would I rather be but near you
Your magnetism steadily unravelling my atoms
This intensity boiling my heart in it's chest...
Why?
I'd rather be drowning. I am.
I'm drowning in the prospect of you, here,
not pretending to be safe but genuine feeling,
burdening everything I do and have and will
until your level heart bursts like mine does
when I see you
I see you, there
Under that dim orange streetlight
where at last you can see me.
There's no place I'd rather be.