silmarils

[silmarils]

0

zero. that open cavernous glyph.

as yet nothing

but inscribed with the possibility

of all and anything.

that empty container

dormant until we pour in life.

[silmarils]

in describing thee human particulars fall flat.

thou are the first rays of dawn sunlight

upon softly lolling spring tides,

the fresh dew beading on bracken stems,

the gently rippling summer zephyr.

o, human particulars are far too coarse,

for you are everything, all, and more.

[silmarils]

i stepped across thy threshold

and forthwith glittering gold overflow'd.

[silmarils]

'my love'.

just two little words,

but within, wherein, therein,

all, and everything.

[silmarils]

my inner world exists as a labyrinth,

beset with a host of whetted briars,

and yet with you but a hair's breadth away

from the centre, a golden glow e'er emanates.

[silmarils]

i pinch myself:

to think you are flesh,

blood, bone,

such sticky earthly stuff,

and not merely

a gossamer figment 

of my e'er doleful thought. 

[silmarils]

i wish i could stem it.

that flood of feeling forlorn

whenever we part.

the deadly depth of lonely

when you turn away.

o maybe i simply wasn't made

to be without you.

[silmarils]

'insecurity', that vulgar vine,

coiling, curling, constricting,

slowly, yet ever surely,

asphyxiating.

[silmarils]

words fall ever flat. 

no verdant verbiage,

nor quick colloquialism,

can begin to encompass 

the simple serenity 

of your arms. 

[silmarils]

waking up beside you:

one infinite sunrise. 

[silmarils]

for weeks now no poetic sleights of hand have found voice,

for i have been overflowing in the golden presence of you.

[silmarils]

with my head laid on your chest,

i listen to your every heartbeat.

mine slows to match yours

and now they hum as one.

[silmarils]

i never expected to be the person

to scribble love poetry

in the dark early hours

but no sleep will come,

my own heart deafens me.

[silmarils]

with your fingers interlaced in mine,

the future a forever.

[silmarils]

for so long i was a creation so carefully stitched,

so delicately manufactured, so minutely crafted,

and then you came along, quiet but sure,

and those coiled threads loosened

until the me kept within was finally free.

[silmarils]

i would gladly take the world's every whetted blade

if it would but save you from a single graze.

[silmarils]

i hold you so close

and yet no proximity

is close enough.

if only i could throw off

these corporeal shackles,

then inside your golden warmth

i would but forever bask.