To the Women I Haven’t Met

I will look at you like the sun peeking through the blinds, painting the blank of my wall after a rainy day.
I will be enraptured with the beauty you hide in the breath before the moment you tell me about your passion.
If give me five minutes, I will be captured by the you, you only see when you dream of a someday that hides in your shadows like another personality.
You’ll tell me you aren’t there yet,
and I’ll remind you that shadows play in the morning, noon, and night time.
I’ll tell you you’re beautiful when I’m touching you and when i’m not,
and hope you understand that it’s not a comment about your physical casing, but about the feeling I get when I touch your soul.
You’ll make me see there are so many things I don’t know yet with the way you nuzzle my broken with a gentle I haven’t seen in this regeneration.
The old in your soul will rub against mine like a great cat stretching against the muzzle of another lifetime.
I’ll hold you until you wake up hungry and hope we devour enough of each other to remember what we taste like on the other side.
If you give me five minutes, I will spend ever breath of them taken by you.
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