Moody, distracted, doubtful
After a third of a century I still don’t know what I want…
After a tempestuous week obsessing over the number three, Jewels, and me (us),
After nights of thoughts incessantly jumping back, and back, and back to you; back to us three
After days interrupted with invading images, unceasingly arriving (un)welcome
After abandoning reason/discipline and embracing desire/chaos…
Pouting and petulant, your face upturned, slightly pink, aglow with longing, your eyes fiercely yielding.
Now – there are dreams yet undreamed, scenes yet unseen, feelings yet unfelt
Now, the question remains – what might this do to us (and you)?
What might this do to us?
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