Olivia One and Won
April 2nd 2010 04:32
& sitting quietly, thousands of kilometers from home; different dirt, different air, different stones,
alone,
indifferent though, to the differences though because I'm lost in my head again,
Lost the exits again,
Not that I'm ignorant of them,
That the entries hold them,
That the exits are the entries and that all I need is my eyes to open,
Just wandering inside a maze that I know is covered in a haze of thought,
because I built it.
(should have built a button that reads; thought pause.)
All I have though is rewind to the first time that I laid eyes on her,
Laid time on her,
Laid mind on her,
Wanted to lay next to her.
& in this rewind is the simple find that travelling time,
Traversing the kind of fabric that seems to be singular and fleeting,
Linear and depleting,
Is a single point that's inflating exponentially.
Invisible, revisitable,
She brushed my leg under the table...
... I went from stable to turbulent,
She went from pleasant to opulent,
She lent me something that I wanted to give back to her:
a lack of air,
a chest arrest,
butterflies,
b r e a t h l e s s n e s s.
She reset the test that I'd built to grant access,
Made me reassess what I thought it was that was success,
Made my mind regress & decide to skip a resume,
skip a check list,
skip a thought train...
...go back to trusting emotion again.
I have to confess; I like her brown legs in that silky dress
& am still impressed by the way she lives her life;
Bereft of regret,
second thought and compromise...
...hypnotized for a moment by her guilded eyes.
I want her to come with me,
I want to show show her my life,
Show her the world through my eyes,
Show her what exists of me beyond arrogant and pissed again,
High again,
And in the morning should we fuck again?
I'm not used to loud and verbally confident being so directed,
With the loud people I know it's disconnected,
Performance more than an attempt at connectedness.
I like the no hesitation to ask for what she wants,
I like the no reservation and that way her skin is soft.
The Olivian Oblivion and fuck the cost.
The gentle consideration behind the intense sensation of satisfaction,
An apt reaction,
And her mind is an efficient contraption for turning thoughts into words.
Her lips and curves have me back at lost for air & words.
Started at stopped,
Then started
Then stopped again.
& I hope we can start again.
I want more of those full body shivers...
I want friends to come over and ask;
Who´s jacket, toothbrush and handbag is that?
¨Oh those?¨
I´ll say,
¨They´re Olivia´s.¨
alone,
indifferent though, to the differences though because I'm lost in my head again,
Lost the exits again,
Not that I'm ignorant of them,
That the entries hold them,
That the exits are the entries and that all I need is my eyes to open,
Just wandering inside a maze that I know is covered in a haze of thought,
because I built it.
(should have built a button that reads; thought pause.)
All I have though is rewind to the first time that I laid eyes on her,
Laid time on her,
Laid mind on her,
Wanted to lay next to her.
& in this rewind is the simple find that travelling time,
Traversing the kind of fabric that seems to be singular and fleeting,
Linear and depleting,
Is a single point that's inflating exponentially.
Invisible, revisitable,
She brushed my leg under the table...
... I went from stable to turbulent,
She went from pleasant to opulent,
She lent me something that I wanted to give back to her:
a lack of air,
a chest arrest,
butterflies,
b r e a t h l e s s n e s s.
She reset the test that I'd built to grant access,
Made me reassess what I thought it was that was success,
Made my mind regress & decide to skip a resume,
skip a check list,
skip a thought train...
...go back to trusting emotion again.
I have to confess; I like her brown legs in that silky dress
& am still impressed by the way she lives her life;
Bereft of regret,
second thought and compromise...
...hypnotized for a moment by her guilded eyes.
I want her to come with me,
I want to show show her my life,
Show her the world through my eyes,
Show her what exists of me beyond arrogant and pissed again,
High again,
And in the morning should we fuck again?
I'm not used to loud and verbally confident being so directed,
With the loud people I know it's disconnected,
Performance more than an attempt at connectedness.
I like the no hesitation to ask for what she wants,
I like the no reservation and that way her skin is soft.
The Olivian Oblivion and fuck the cost.
The gentle consideration behind the intense sensation of satisfaction,
An apt reaction,
And her mind is an efficient contraption for turning thoughts into words.
Her lips and curves have me back at lost for air & words.
Started at stopped,
Then started
Then stopped again.
& I hope we can start again.
I want more of those full body shivers...
I want friends to come over and ask;
Who´s jacket, toothbrush and handbag is that?
¨Oh those?¨
I´ll say,
¨They´re Olivia´s.¨
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