GIFTS

My body called you this morning,
I woke to a room full of breathe and I swear,
I tasted your scent in my mouth. 

My eyes were blurred by the gifts of your form
And my cheeks, fully stretched.
You know how I can't draw a cup, right?
My fingers had written in hieroglyphs
Each of my fantasies all over the sheet and each period was you. 

You once called me a performer,
And all I heard was the only audience I needed. 
Last month I didn't dial your number once
And I haven't read any Art of war that prepared me for that. 

I don't smile each morning lately and my demons are seated on each face I meet,
But your smile in my memories cleanses me enough to still catch some sleep

I had a difficult night at the bar yesternight.
But the 5 minutes I spent
On the spot you once placed your beer
And with entitlement you inquired
'Why don't I love you anymore?'
Washed it all away.
I don't remember my deeply thought through well structured answer,
But I do know I haven't met love that was as free
And I owe a few feathers on my wings to you. 

What am saying is you are like a child;
How you wear your anger and want unapologetically,
How you are and nothing less,
How you bounce femininity, masculinity or lack thereof around.
I can't even tell how many people I miss in you. 

I have a theory, as usual. 
I believe if I attempted to feel your hand on my skin
And vice versa just once more
I would explode to the creator and dreams I hold. 
Am not saying you are the socket to this circuit,
I just feel what your light ignites in me could hit the world like a nuclear blast. 
The balance of your darkness and my uncertainty could bring the artifacts hidden in my soul to form.

So, for art, for world or my peace,
For freedom
My body gave you a ring,
Ignite me if you choose
But also remember our memories are enough to make me smile
At least once each day.