I Wanted To Die In Your Arms

I wanted to die in your arms,

Catch myself tightening my grip,
Squeezing you, feeling your
Body respond.

I wanted to lean over you,
And smile as your eyes closed,
In anticipation of soft kisses,
That always come.

I wanted to wake up with my lips,
An inch from your nape,
And plant them without,
Any aim.

I wanted your eyes to wonder,
How much I loved you,
Every time I brushed away your hair,
A second too slowly.

I wanted to smell the perfume,
Your skin stole from your clothes,
To kidnap me to the nights it was
All that there was.

I wanted you to drink in,
The smiles that framed my silences,
Which remained agents of discord,
Over the phone.

I wanted to lock my hands,
Around your busy waist,
As you pretended to continue working,
With deep breaths.

I wanted to see you believe me,
Even as your head denied it,
That you are beautiful in,
So many ways.

I wanted you to chide my fingers,
For tracing the canvas of your skin,
With geometries that belonged,
To the night.

I wanted you to beg me to stay,
As I already started to leave,
For a meeting I would,
Never reach.

I wanted to feel the pangs of leaving,
That good company often brings,
The bitter-sweet taste that rode,
Our phone-calls.

I wanted you to keep me at bay,
My body belying the lies,
We told the world while we,
Flirted with destiny.

I wanted you to remember,
Each caress, each innocent embrace,
Every chance I gave you to question
Us.

I wanted to die in your arms,
Having known your love,
And the one you loved,
So much.


Image Source: Agnes Cecile