Reasons

   This poem developed when I was thinking about reasons I like the girl I've been seeing as much as I already do. We met when she responded to a post I made on Craigslist, in which she was well spoken with complete sentences and paragraphs. Words. After a couple of weeks, we had our first date and it went well. Within the first couple of hours we had planned another and a day later, yet another. In three dates we've spent over 26 hours together. Time. And now, I find myself wanting to spend more and more time with her, to do more things, to talk more, to see where all this leads. Desire.

Reasons

In the beginning

there were words.

Handshakes were words;

smiles, words; chemistry, words.

When I asked the world for love

you gave me what I loved:

words. Words like paintings,

words that defied black and white,

words like a palette for creating life.

Next, in medias res,

there was time spent, freely

as though we are rich with time,

as though time well spent

was a spice to use liberally to add zest

to the days we seize together.

When I asked the world for love

you gave me what I loved:

time. Time on a clock

without a face or hands,

time given free reign,

given its reins, unbridled,

allowed to run.

Now, in this moment,

there is desire.

Like perfume, I breathe in

and my head is filled with desire,

desire defined and undefined

desire for the hourglass to be set on its side

or to ride in its sands

with you right beside me.

When I asked the world for love

you gave me what I loved:

desire. Desire to taste

your lips tasting the wine from mine,

desire to have you, to hold you

desire to want you, desire

to revel in you,

and finally, the desire

to revel in your desires.