the poem i wrote my loved one after revelling in keats
To feel your head repose
Upon my breast
And rise and fall
And rise again
To bury my face
Into your neck
And smell that odour
Distinctly yours
To push my nose
Into the soft duvet
That makes your hair
And know
That beneath, your caramel eyes
Lie half-open
In soft yearning pain
To know that we shall drift apart
And float away
Only to meet again
It is this, the pain
The longing and the desire
Of loving you
And loving you in vain
Because what is love but a thing in vain
A construction rising from the dying synapses
Of our brains?
What is love but a hopeless, despairing
Meeting of souls
In the sweet ecstasy of communion
That does indeed
End before its time?
Is it a crime?
To love you so and know
That if you were ever to go, to leave
To be ill or in despair
That I would suffer interminably
And long
As if a knife were struck into my heart?
Love brings us together
Only to sharpen the awareness
Of being apart
There is no suffering in the world without love
And no love without suffering, my love
I long and suffer hard and long
My heart cries out and can’t withstand
The slight withdrawal of your hand
Or the thought that your gaze might rise
From your enchanted study of my face
To things more sundry and benign
It is this treacherous trap
That Love lays
And we walk obliviously in
Consciously, willingly even
And resigned.
To hold you in my arms
Is to want to possess you
With a desire so sharp it is cruel
And wrong
I want to kiss you
Deep and long
And until the end of time
But such things are not possible on this earth
Because Love descends and weaves her magic
Upon us both,
From another world
Where you and I are forever one
And where the sun always shines.
