Our love is something like a tree,
It grows ever so slowly,
It gives me shaded security.
A stable point to mark my way.
It is so much a part of my life, that I hardly think of it.
It exists: like gravity, like life.
But it is far more beautiful,
Far more erotic.
I have been in the dream world of your love for so long,
I forget what it is like outside.
The sweet smell of the air here,
I can breathe it in deep gulps.
I am at peace and restful,
My body is warm and free.
Naked, I can sleep peaceful in your shaded security.
The past world I lived in seems like a distant memory.
So even as our love grows deeper,
Sometimes I forget it exists.
It isn't something we always purposefully acknowledge.
When I look at you...
And truly see you...
I am reminded of the power of our love.
It grows stronger, deeper, taller everyday.
It isn't as obvious as it used to be: but it is strong.
This is what I want:
That our love grows so strong,
It becomes so consuming,
That acknowledging it's presence,
Would be like taking in the entire sky.
Our hearts would be full of this huge love,
It would seep into others, and here we would lay,
Resting comfortably in its branches.
"I say this is a wild dream—but it is this dream I want to realize. Life and literature combined, love the dynamo, you with your chameleon's soul giving me a thousand loves, being anchored always in no matter what storm, home wherever we are. In the mornings, continuing where we left off. Resurrection after resurrection. You asserting yourself, getting the rich varied life you desire; and the more you assert yourself the more you want me, need me. Your voice getting hoarser, deeper, your eyes blacker, your blood thicker, your body fuller. A voluptuous servility and tyrannical necessity. More cruel now than before—consciously, wilfully cruel. The insatiable delight of experience."