like these

keep the lashes of your eyes
interlocked with my trust,
follow my voice until the soles of our shoes
no longer are earthbound and
your shoulder blades,
birth wings

where once life stored its burdens.

you’re with me when I’m alone
under covers of nighttime relief
three thousand miles away
under the merciless rays of reality,

but in my heart,
you’re with me when I sleep;

my head resting on a pillow
knit of your rib cage,
in a cradle of your arms,
rocked into a bulletproof dreamland
where I throw back dry martini’s with Frank
and talk revolution with Dr. King;
where ignorance is not frowned upon
because feelings such as these,
as strong as these,
are not known,

feelings such as these are felt
in the cores of souls
in the marrow of bones,
through fingertips
and hello kisses
because-I-missed-you kisses,
woke-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-kisses,
I-hope-you-slept-well kisses,
just because kisses,

because I love you kisses.

feelings like these are ghosts
in the vocabulary of men
who digest science
who believe we’re all just carbon,

and that feelings like these
are hormones bingeing on teenage naivete,
and nerve endings firing hip-thrusting cannons
into highly sensitive regions,

confusing our sex drive with real love feelings,

I am not a woman of science,
I inhale and exhale in a world of fine imagery
metaphors and similes,

I don not a sterile lab coat
but a suit of *amour,

made of skin
slightly stained, with

tattered ends

but feelings like these hide not
from truth and tarnished histories,
I believe in long-lasting love feelings,
the kind that make my body ache
in your absence
and I will march knowingly into battle
to fight for this love,
even die for this love,

leave the world of summer flings
one night stands
surface-skimming crushes
for real, soul-deep love and,
willingly flat line the beat of my heart
to any man that isn’t you,

die a childish, commit-aphobe
afraid of sharing my big dreams
I never believed had room for two,
I find myself dusting cobwebs from unknown corners
of my heart, donating memories
to make room for new,
the ones that starred old romances
no need to cling on to past regrets
knowing had they not been made
I wouldn’t know a love like this,
and be reborn into the form of
a love-able woman,
a midnight-mistress unafraid of her body,
a soul-searching, warrior of love
ready for battle.