Thread: Watered

I like you.
A lot.

When I'm shivering
you let me put my legs over you,
even though you loath how hot I get.

You bring me hot drinks in bed
and watch stupid movies that I liked
when I was thirteen.

You wash my hair in the shower
and say I'm pretty even when I'm in
my most baggy of nighties.

There is always a warm chest to burrow into
and a chin to hide under.

But it is not
all about comfort -
you push me, push me
to do things that always frightened me

but you do so with a smile on your face
and a tug on my hand.

We travel and see
things I have only read of,
experiment in the kitchen and discuss
the strangest of topics.

I don't see how you believe
we just decompose and cease to exist -
I am sure there is something more,
but you are adamant that we are just flesh
and neurons firing into the dark.

Well, I have to say
that even if this is true
I love patterns electricity makes on your brain,
the way you are so critical of everything,
so sarcastic
but never too cruel.

You were difficult to grow close to,
but I'm afraid you will now never be able to
get rid of me -
you fed a part of me I didn't know
needed to be watered.

I like this piece a lot. It's a wonderful snapshot of one side of a relationship. It seems well edited... and by that I mean that I don't see anything to trim, nor do I think it lacks anything vital. Well-crafted, man. You should submit this somewhere.

Oh, and I'm quite jealous of the line "I love patterns electricity makes on your brain." Good stuff.

Why thank you. Sometimes I'm not the best at editing.

Nice to read you again, Damien, it's been a while. You maintain the tenderness I remember from your former pieces, yet the style is quite different. Somewhat telly in a sense, but I think it serves the poem well and I enjoyed it all the way through. Excellent job with how you split the stanzas.

Martin