The Nothingness of Us

The television blinking in the distance The sound long faded impossible to exist in your presence I sit content, as you lay softly upon my beating chest My fingers gently sweeping across the top of your breast The curve of your ear and the dimple in your cheek How your lips flutter with each breathe every time I sneak a quick peek Countless seconds passed as I lay nestled within the sweet caress Of your love as it kisses my mind and tickles my soul The totality of you cannot be stated, written, or proclaimed For words dirty up your perfection Proclamations cheapen your commitments And poetry, well…. How can the totality of you been summoned up in a word Or words, or lyrics, or paragraphs, or stories What is sexy? When sexy to one is grotesque to another What is perfection? When perfection to one is irritation to another The poem of you can only be written in between the seconds of me The love of you can only be stated in the nothingness of me The proclamation of you can only be proclaimed… In the loss of the singularity of me within the unity of you