"Invention does not consist in creating out of void but of chaos.
It can give form to dark, shapeless substances, but cannot bring into being the substance itself" M. Shelley
Through her presence
you feel comfortable and home-somehow
the sun tries to catch up with us
the two of us: once: our mutual passion
we talk our heads off-
barefoot play around and I think-
I could fall for her anytime
anywhere
over and over again
remember her bedsides, the heavy breathing, and my moans
today
if we did
we lie in the grass where I can finally rest with anticipation and complacency
I do not have to touch
either past
or future
I am no longer absent or withdrawn
I simply am now and enternally-here