To love and be loved. The desire to unite. To be with someone to talk, touch, feel, share, be. Give and receive. Come talk to me. Cuppio disolivi. Dissolve in decadence and destruction. Self-destruct. But, God, the consequence. The destruction caused by desire. Was the desire to destruct? The deepest dive into my desire for the forbidden, unobtainable, unrequited love, leads to no other end but that I am disturbed and self-destructive, destructing all desire, desiring what I can’t have. Expulsed from the kingdom of heaven, the garden of eden. For forbidden fruit.
Like a magnet and all other forces of nature. A chemical connection. All five senses. There was a Celebration of the Senses, a gift. There was a Celebration of Desire, dancing in the dark, the last time we made love. We tried. It didn’t work. That’s it. If only. The feelings. The desire. The waves and tides and the undertow of this ocean inside, an ocean in disguise, undone by desire.
The delicate construct of who we are. The desire to be better, happier, fulfilled, knowing we never will. We tried. It didn’t work. That’s it and life goes on. Time waits for no one. It’s gone. Whoever you were pretending to be. Gone. Whoever you wanted to be. Gone. Whoever you desired. Gone. The smell of your perfume. The tilt of your head. The nape of your neck. The swerve of your smile. The shape of your shoulders. The flower in your hair. The sound of your voice whispering my name. The scarf I slept with on the train. The truth you found inside. The love we made.
Gone. But the desire. Different than hope. Deeper than want. Oblivious to needs. This connection. This self-destruction. This desire. All I want is you. To hold, kiss, touch, play with. All I want is you, to spend my time with, read a book to, hold your hand and touch your leg under the table in a crowded room. To walk along a beach, discovering a new sea, holding the butterfly ring as you slide your finger across my lips and I kiss your elegant neck. You say you want our story to remain untold. Your love not to grow cold. All I want is you. Your smile. Your eyes. You taught me desire, but I didn’t learn. You left it to die, while mine still burned. Deception and destruction I know all too well. My desire for you has sent me to hell.
I dreamt of you. Early this morning. We sat next to each other at a table. And had a conversation. We spoke about the clouds and a cobblestone street. You wore a green sweater. Then we let our desire take over, and it was just so lovely and sexy and felt so real and I awoke in a sweat in the dark and felt very sad and lonely. Later I listened to you sing songs of longing for lost love, and I watch you from far away and wonder why we act this way. And all I can think about is you. All I want is you. And with just a stolen moment in a hallway, what to say what to say, I don’t know what to say, words fail, and what could I say? “All I want is you”? and you would shake your head and walk away from the madman that I am. I want to go with you. I want to ride a bike home with you. And have tea and a hot shower and share a warm blanket and a good book and laugh about the student who dropped his glasses in the toilet. A dream to just BE. A dream. An emotional connection, attraction, devotion, from someplace deep and real. All I want is you.
I tried to write my own song. I came up with chords and words, and worked on it for some time. And then realized it sounded very much like this song, so here is this song, and I’ll try to make my own some other time. I wish we had more time. Time to be. Time to dream. Time to believe. Time to be free.
I’m crazy with fever. I’m crazy for you. You sing so beautifully, I wish I could sing and play with you.