Depravation of the senses
Can seem so poetic-
Raw hallucinations and druglike stupor
Evil poverty, feeling starved.
Cold potato salad
A glass of ice water
And a fan on full blast
On a hot day
Is even better.
Loving you, Kelly, is like the latter.
Before I met you I was John the Baptist
Crunching bitter locusts in the wilderness.
Not to suggest you were my Christ
(But hell, that sort of belief is good enough for our parents
And the salvation is real enough.
Seriously though, it’s like all of time was spread out before me
On a vast rainbow colored multiform plain
And when I looked out
I was scared shitless
Seeing that terrible abundance.
But now, it is an unfathomably beautiful phenomena
And I feel the comfort of understanding
Real and blanketing as the sweet infinite of your blue eyes
Or your touch
And just as awesome.
What I’m trying to say is that you reveal things to me.
What I’m trying to say at the risk of sounding cheese ball is
I was lost but now am found.
In other words
You are the cool glass of water
On the balmy summer afternoon
Of my lifetime.