We found ourselves (by losing ourselves)
transcending time.
Sheltered
by our little bubble
we walked,
locked, key in whole.
I remember
your side glances,
your shyness that came
a pint into the pitcher of Porter
we democratically elected
as our beverage of choice.
You know the silver lining
we find around clouds?
I have seen it
resting on your neck,
and sometimes
I watch you reach for it,
fingering
your brothers pendant,
Once lost
in the practice
of "friendly fire."
Your soldier's swept
the house clean
to find you in the stall
falling to the floor after a fight.
I wonder if I was a bit more queer and
you had a bit more belief in it working
out, if we would both be in a space
where we would not only love
each others minds.
One of the reasons I love
Gustav Klimts paintings is in
the way he paints womens skin
The way he captures white,
the color which houses all the colors.
"Have I told you your skin does that?"
"No."
"Well it does Darlin', it does."
I see pinks and blues
yellows and hints of oranges
bits of brown with pintches of purple
and yes garnishes of green.
As I mentioned before-
Spiced to Taste.
As If Our Lives Depended On It,
Ivy
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