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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1531076
Being Love and in love
Dug myself in,
Can't dig myself out.
What on earth have I done?

Beautiful souls
Calling to me,
Is there really just one

I give myself to
In entirety?
Is this really how it works?

All are so generous,
Kind and unique.
All have their wonderful quirks.

Never too sure
What anyone sees
Inside this tortured being.

But as I know
Only too well,
Eyes don't do all the seeing.

If they did,
Youc ould be sure
I would be little approached.

But seeing beyond,
The empty inside
Would also be better not broached.

Yet here I am
Moving around,
Told that I'm breaking hearts

By simply trying
To offer affection
To anyone willing to part

With some of themselves,
To share just a morsel
Of their tender, considerate souls.

I don't demand
Of anybody,
I never puncture holes

In people's hearts,
To make them bleed
The beauty of intimacy.

All that I ask
Is just to share
A touch of your Being with me.

Now I am trapped in my longing for love
With a man whose soul looks not here but above.
© Copyright 2009 AdamAnt (agilliland at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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