Poetry

I want to sneak into God's own linen store,
Cut a large piece of cloth,
Soak it in my reserves of joy
And wipe your worries away.

I want to invent a machine,
that could give a sound
to the jazz I hear in my mind,
every time you speak.

I want to put a stethoscope
on my bare ribcage,
make you listen to my heartbeat,
telling a story of how life,
departed the mundane,
and freefell into the unknown.

I want to show you how my face,
my whole existence, light up
when I talk to you.
How you nurture me with therapy
unwittingly,
how you defeat my anxiety,
by merely being you…

I want to make you feel safe,
to never worry about first,
or second or third guesses,
because,
when push comes to shove
I'd take the hit for you.

I want to squash your inhibitions,
play my vantage reel,
my life-time worth,
of captioned reassurances:
That there's nothing to worry about,
in the entire universe,
except the desolation of inaction.

I want to see you in my poetry
tell you about my insanity,
take you for a ride,
on my train of thought,
I want to make you believe in,
my apostasy.
But first, I want to see you, seeing me.
I want you to see me, seeing you,
in an endless loop of clarity.

I want to quantify,
the effervescence of butterflies,
that proliferate in my stomach,
every time I see you smile.
I want to register the miracle,
that is,
the cadence of your voice,
in every conceivable way.
And how you turned my life,
into a bliss of distant Thursdays.

I want to dedicate my words to you
navigate through storms, for you.
share my revelations, with you.
as you share yours, with me.
I want to see the world, through you.
'cause I can't see the world, without you.
And I swear by whatever god
you want me to believe in,
that every word above, is true.