we speak of love

most treacherous

one that obliviates the self

to become

a masochistic voyeur

to reenact the odyssey in my mind

of my fingertips to your skin

the land of milk and honey

savour each taste of the touch

it lingers ruthlessly, the scent of lavender in July

the most abhorrent love this is

it loiters like Death above a poppy field

who knew one could suffocate with air abundant

thirst next to a lake

sink in a drought

empty without wantings

a peek is sustaining

a glance is divine

yet I dread one day we stare eye to eye

what more can I ask for then

when I finally get hold of the colors of your eyes

and mesmerized by the seas of turquoise and teal

it will send me further, farther into my odyssey

I will be lost until you are found

we speak of a…