I’d like to write about you Dearest

Let me write about you in all the shades there are.

Like a painter who has just found ease and aesthetics with her subject as she fills her canvas with technicolor; stroke her brush from a cliff overlooking the city and presses her palette for colours that blur the eye, darken the earth or purify the rain water residue gathered in a plastic hammock.

Let me write about you in all aspects I know.

Like a mad scientist who intelligently experiments, disposes and records the samples, evidences and facts of the hidden chemistry within your anatomy; to untangle the reasons behind your being and desperately slips her hands under your shards of secrets with all honesty.

Let me write about you with precision.

Like a dancer of rumba and salsa who knows the measured rhythms and the unruffled emotions of the music she plays for an interpretative dance on a maximum level.

Let me write about you both the stoic and the queer.

Like a raging prostitute who treats clients’ bodies with grandiose adoration but is less concerned with their crotch’s sizes and philosophical guidelines.

My dearest love,

I’d like to write about you.

Like a writer naked in front of you who can’t wait to blot the ink of her pen on paper to trace and retrace the most infallible truths she discovers about you.

Like a dreamy writer who has slept walk to your cautioned space just to scrape the mask that envelopes you as she calls out your name.

Like a writer having both the innocent and idiot child inside her to show you the joy of being carefree and being fucked up.

Like a writer who is femininely in love with your totality; even the rear view.

And as I struggle to inhale the smell of your soiled clothes, the scent of your temperamental outbursts, the stink of your unpredictability, the fouled sarcasm, the burgeoning feelings of love, the humanitarian side of you, the great visionary you are, the rotten anguish and hatred that live in you, the anxiety and fear that scare you, the cool and independent guy that defines you and the cloistered man hidden in you;

My unique love,

Let me write all of them.

I’d like to write more of them.

More than the words ‘I love you.’

I’m here.

I’m here for you

and,

the shadows that walk and sleep with you.