Will You Be With Me

Will you be with me? Will you be, with me?
Will you let me gaze upon your fair face,
and into your oceanic eyes, for this day,
then that day, and then the next and next.

Will you be with me, when I am alone,
and need to sleep?

Will you let me drink in your fine etched muscles,
which are acid burned with peculiar clarity
within my mind, as if metal made your flesh
and ink stained shadow clings to your human form.
It must be my tears which are the acid,
for in them our history is written.

Will you be with me, when i am alone,
and need to sleep?

Will you come when I call?
Will you care what I ask?
Will you kill what creeps and crawls,
and sends shivers in my spine?

Will you be with me, when i am, alone,
and need to sleep.

Will you find me flowers in winter,
cool dew in summer, and bright stars
on clouded nights.

Will you hold me when I cry out
the jagged burning edges that cut me.
Will you apologize when I need it,
because I have been wrong.

Will you listen to the negative shapes,
that my words make when I speak.
Will you wait for my anger,
Wash away my fears.

Will you warm me with words,
waft me with dreams,
share me with passion,
shear me from reason.

Will you comfort my coldness,
and embrae my soft heat,
that grows amber and golden,
like new summer wheat.

Will you be, with me, when, I am alone,
and need to sleep.

Will you listen to me,
when I tell you the truths,
that your ears can barely strain to hear.
Which fall upon your ego like lashes of a whip,
Searing and scraping at your endurance,
but in whose fire will make you more a man,
my man, and no others.

Will, you be with me, when I, am alone
and need to sleep.

Will you force me when i have forgotten,
forgotten, in some pique, the passion.
Will you push me when I dole out,
the erotic droplets of union too faintly,
or withold out of anger, at my need for you?

Can you ravish me, knowing when no isn't no,
but not now, or not yet, or not so.
But not not at all.

Will you be with me, when I am alone,
and need, to sleep.