run into you

you are not what i think and yet
how each moss, each blade, each
sliver of grass draw me into the
earth i know is not you, but your
body’s landscape distracts me from
my cautious approach and you urge
me to dismiss this conservatism,
make me anxious to liberally fill
empty spaces with kisses, plant
them where otherwise i may sow
roots… dig deeper, you said; for
beneath the unforeseen attraction
are the intricacies of my own soul,
veins running underneath the soil,
uncoiled, tameless, hopelessly
desiring to run into you

© mr gahon 6/10/15


About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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