(sequel to that poem I wrote many moons ago)
Late night, I'm still yearning
things have changed since then
the innocence of childhood is gone
murdered one January morning
hypothermia set in
But still I dream of you
of holding your hand
my lips brushing yours
bodies pressed tight against each other
you're older now
we both are
matured by the fires of industry
aged in barrels of wine and flesh
our future seems clearer now
you turn back and smile at me
and we both take that step into the light
your laughter rings in my ears
we're not perfect
far from it
but in our imperfections
we are perfect for each other
two wayward and whole souls
lost in our own worlds and
touriss in the real world
your beauty a shimmer
that tears the fabric of reality
and leaves this princes breathless
paralyzed, immobile in your glow
a beautiful torture,
natural euphoria.
late night, and I'm still yearning...
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