Midnight muse

God of desire, can you hear my longing heart? 

 

If you ever desire to die, can you tell me? Cupid, are you dead? Time is leaving me unkind, the sun is dying, and the breeze of the sea is colder. I am getting older, and I don't know if I'm getting closer or warmer. Love told me don't think too much of it, but it's human nature to crave a kiss. There's so much restraint, but I'd give my loving, sweet surrender and feel you in your bones. I've lived years, and I long for you for all of them. I'd be delighted if it wasn't mediocre. How odd it is to know you, even if there's a great possibility that you're not born yet. Be near me; I want you close. You don't know what it meant to look me in the eyes and see the goods. You are all the poems I wanted to write, desperately. This is not maternal seeking; this is the memoir of a lover ignorant of loving. 

 

"Poets, they can be soldiers, too."