Sunday Mornings

We've been taught to kiss

with our eyes closed, legs open,
our hearts somewhere in between.
If our eyes are windows into the soul, 
then I'd rather keep mine alert 
to seek truth and reciprocated feelings
shared under warm duvets and 
in conversations at Irish pubs, 
with backgrounds as sweet as 
the minor keys of a symphony. 

There is romance in mystery, 
the moments you lose your
breath are simply intoxicating. 
It's the rise of the roller coaster
and the anticipation of the fall.

There is love in knowledge, in clarity,
in commitment outside of lust. 
Do not confuse this with false promises, 
with guarantees of a future that is
more tangible or real than a prophecy. 
Instead, the focus is on the here and now. 
I adore you wherever here may be,
an invisible cloak cast around the world. 
I love you now, in this moment and the next.