From a Class. For an Ask.

Coin-flip feelings put to task.

“It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction, I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it”

-Walt Whitman, “The body electric.”

Then Breathless as such,

Thus Breadth of body in love.

What am I to say?

Indeed what am I to say? What can I promise? What would promulgate such passion and peace of a love I need as much as you seem?

To erase doubt.

To chase away fears such as these.

Taunts tantamount to treason against your peace.

What piece of mind do I give to that that would steal your peace of mind-

I can only pray. Pray that in two hours of time, in between interceding that a love greater than mine, love divine would touch you as it has touched me when I start in the dark without your arms around mine.

I can only pray, that when I look you in the eye, when you remember the times that I, in pleas almost whines had asked you to stay-

That you’ll believe when I say I’ll do the same.

And more.

For you are my love.

And I as well as He, are yours.

I wonder if this is overly sincere? Cheesy?

Perhaps in my irreverence, a failure to appreciate unflinching authenticity.

Who could say.

Am I arrogant to assume these words would assure and assuage, act as an antidote to whatever lingers after a dream untrue but so terribly real.

I’m alliterating again.

Bottom line. Two ideas and a suggestion.

I love you. I’m still here.

Let’s go get chicken.