Pixie dust fingers, convoluted grace,
Massaging a conflicted duality-
Bewitched by a confusing reality;
A steady pulse through the distaste;
Though love is blind, it is not devoid of cruelty-
An experience bitterly embraced.
And yet, an uneasy truce of understanding,
Coupled with mutually shared passion,
Fools the eyes and drugs the brain;
Thus into love's loveless purgatory,
Screaming to avoid the actuality,
While tensions mount in eager anticipation
Of another day, of another hope.
Yet, another lesson learned, from another desperate day
Does not dissuade evenly shared affection;
For though you want me, and I you-
And though you can have me, and I you-
Caution blisters the wind as it applies the brakes
To our amorous adventures,
But never quite quenching the thirst we have for each other.
Some things are meant to be, and discovering your soul mate
Throws all else into flux.
Who are you, who am I?
Certainty, was in fact, cemented into place until the day we met,
Leaving us with but one truth:
Our desires have created uncertain times,
With their indubitable craving and knowledge,
That we should be, we are, and will be one.