To love what moves within you
And must be free to do so
To marvel at the inexhaustible variety
Of your soul’s weather,
The complexities of texture, taste, smell
Small noises of contentment,
I’m not a solipsistic predator,
No drooling wanker could
Know the nuance of what moves me,
The charged voltage of interaction,
A cognitive, tactile gap to be crossed,
To love without a trace of bullshit,
My body is a prosthesis for my
Mind and it wants to reach across,
Not scared nor safe in the vulnerability,
And I make myself worthy through
The performance of action,
The exercise of authority,
Carrying old knowledge and fresh
Experience,
You soothe and anger what is wild within me,
Sat outside your door,
Close the curtains and invite me in,
I will be sweet,
But not always gentle
MB Blissett 