Mistakes

They say that if you don't make mistakes, you don't really live. Here's a confession of the one I made.

I feel your chest

Heave up and down under my arm

As the morning sun washes away

The fantasies of the night gone by

Reality is cruel, they say

But I know

It can't be as cruel as you and I

Are to each other

And the world

I feel your lips

Parted and dry,

Inviting, but distant

As I realise how we must be to the others

I want to pause the sunlight

The breeze, the time

Your body under mine

This is a good time to think

But time, as we know

Keeps slipping away

And before we can blink

Makes us strangers in the day

Right now,

In the dawn stillness

I can hear the furniture moan

Chairs and beds

Under the weight of our secret,

Under the weight of our inexplicable acts,

Under the weight of your cruelty,

As you make love to me and whisper "this is a mistake"

And I reply with "no, you are"

I can feel you stir

Your leg wraps itself around mine

Your hand holds my waist again

Firm, still

You look up from slumber

And I say "good morning"

To which your head

Buried on my navel

Says "don't go yet"

I can not stop feeling you

Even on this train seat

And I know,

For every time you say "don't go yet"

I'll say "then make me stay"

Do you see?

Why I call us cruel?

What is this

If not pure torture

Name it

Name me

Name me differently

Name everything about me

As I name everything about us

I can call your eyes acqua

You can call mine coal

I can call your lips honey

You can call mine Bordeaux

I can call you my muse

You can call me your whore

Maybe then it isn't so cruel

Because we only name things

We love