pool of grape juice

Pool of grape juice, deep and soulful. The weight of your heart and depth of your loving, adventurous eyes is all evident in the glass sat beside your crossed leg.

Full circle when I look in your eyes, full belly, full armour from worry spread like a blanket over the inside of my chest and cranium interior.

I’ve cried before and I’ve been euphoric, in the moment as they say.

But sometimes you’re all those things in a state of knowledge of what will come as long as you stick together,

Not that you can promise in that moment you and that person will stick by each other’s side forever, but as long as that instance is what it is, you anticipate the inevitability of everything.

The same floating rock, the same capacity to breath and go through motion.

To be on opposite sides of the world from each other, yet like lost wanderers slowly come face to face again some day.

Some rainy day.

Or a sunny one,

Or a glim one.

“You’re always right there,

Thank you”.

The rockface 50 yards from the shore eroded in equivalence with time into the sand below, and they kissed.

I’m sorry I ever tried to distinguish a difference.

As I lick bottom to top your welcoming tongue, cells in my heart and mind crumbling as I do, I begin to weep and so do you,

Forehead into yours it all fades to black,

Forever on earth, we are together