Like a greedy child still stretching for the bread crumbs on the table-cloth, whilst the mouth is smeared with honey and peanuts, the cheeks full like a chipmunk, we desire in the hearts of our minds for that which we shouldn’t get. We know on paper they aren’t good for us, all those E numbers, but still we crave, we desire. And desire is a powerful thing. It occupies the very space of our thoughts, it sits in the depths of our bellies, and in the heights of our throats where it spills out into the cavities of our mouths. Every vibration speaks of desire, every text holds the potential that it might be fulfilled.
Yet they tell me patience is a virtue. But this patient soul has been crying out for jealous affirmation. It desires to be known, to be handled warmly…whilst simultaneously its stubborn, proud heart stands resolute, aloof, waiting for the promise, that you promised me, to come to pass.
No longer half scattered notes, but a song with both rhyme and reason, and a steady, sturdy, deep filled harmony, laced beneath it like gentle fingers that will carry me…if I wait, patiently.