entrust me with your wisdom
because you have plenty to dispense
a beacon to guide me from confiscated years
but it’s all irrelevant
you and i stay, frozen
enchanted, facing the honesty in our eyes
prohibited to let our gazes fall
denied to flinch
your hand under your cheek
your head to the pillow
and we lie, bound in a metaphysical embrace
how close and afar we can rest
but permanently inescapable to the cascade
of your smile, your voice
my mind-boggling plunge into your presence
existence of the majestic
as i have given all of my trust
into the safety and guard of your hands
reckoning mysteries of your day
and i vow to you entirely

© simon whittle — from lovers’ tiff: a ballad