You could strip away everything beautiful about her
yet still be awed by her imperfections
or study Yeats, Chaucer and Shakespeare
but not know poetry til she blessed your temple
with a kiss
rested your head on her bosom
and swooned
"I'm where you belong."
Look you could travel back in time
to when we were kings
and rule over every man and beast in the jungle
triumphantly pounding your chest
but it'd beat hollow
cos you know what it means
to be ruled by a lioness
and to hear her roar
"I'm where you belong."
Or you could even become an astronaut
and dedicate your days
to finding your way to the moon
and as soon as you landed there
be struck by the awesome closeness
of a galaxy of stars
yet never wander too far
cos you'd miss the sparkle in her eyes
drawing you back to earth
like gravity whispering
"I'm where you belong."
And you could find your way back to school
and work your ass off
and earn a PhD in Botany
where you'd lose your senses
in the petals of jasmines and orchids
and endless research
that would lead you to sell your life away
and move to a grass-thatched hut in the wilds
of that tiny island in the Caribbean
where the sweetest flowers grow
all in your impossible quest
to create a perfume
sweet enough to capture the essence
of her voice
when she pulls you close
looks you unwaveringly in the eye
with her sparkling pair
and professes
"I'm where you belong."
Man you could live to a hundred
and in that time do no wrong
you could raise a family with her
pay your taxes and never litter
you could drive a hybrid
and give up red meat and sweets
you could start a soup kitchen
and keep your nails clipped
and always say "please" and "thank you"
and you could be the very best
you had it in you to be
and maybe
just maybe
you'd earn the right
to respond in kind
when she declares
"I'm where you belong."
For whom I dream of belonging to, W.
