To love and be loved. The desire to unite. To be with someone to talk, touch, feel, share, be. Give and receive. Come talk to me. Cuppio disolivi. Dissolve in decadence and destruction. Self-destruct. But, God, the consequence. The destruction caused by desire. Was the desire to destruct? The deepest dive into my desire for the forbidden, unobtainable, unrequited love, leads to no other end but that I am disturbed and self-destructive, destructing all desire, desiring what I can’t have. Expulsed from the kingdom of heaven, the garden of eden. For forbidden fruit.
Like a magnet and all other forces of nature. A chemical connection. All five senses. There was a Celebration of the Senses, a gift. There was a Celebration of Desire, dancing in the dark, the last time we made love. We tried. It didn’t work. That’s it. If only. The feelings. The desire. The waves and tides and the undertow of this ocean inside, an ocean in disguise, undone by desire.
The delicate construct of who we are. The desire to be better, happier, fulfilled, knowing we never will. We tried. It didn’t work. That’s it and life goes on. Time waits for no one. It’s gone. Whoever you were pretending to be. Gone. Whoever you wanted to be. Gone. Whoever you desired. Gone. The smell of your perfume. The tilt of your head. The nape of your neck. The swerve of your smile. The shape of your shoulders. The flower in your hair. The sound of your voice whispering my name. The scarf I slept with on the train. The truth you found inside. The love we made.
Gone. But the desire. Different than hope. Deeper than want. Oblivious to needs. This connection. This self-destruction. This desire. You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold. Our story to remain untold. Your love not to grow cold. You taught me desire, but I didn’t learn. You left it to die, while mine still burned. Deception and destruction I know all too well. My desire for you has sent me to hell.