Thus It Is 'You' My Requiem..1 Poem by James McLain

Thus it is my requiem;
have only eyes for you my love
the sky is soft as are the clouds beneeth.
I would fall to my knees above your tomb
even during, always after 'Love' it rained on me.
Crying, softly soaked wanting you behind.
This I promise to you that I would show you so much
with my passion of 'Phoenix', it is late left thus.
My covetousness for you is toxic.
My desire of your blouse attracts.
During a serenade of moonlight we would slow down
the dance with a blue old man œ it.
If I lost you because 'I' lost you once again.
The deep colums underneeth my knees and would request
so that you pay it my attention left to me.
Looking at old photographs of me and smiling
you and considering narrow lines and I poured
a simple tear for you.
Seeing your daily face, knowing beautiful - how you are
and wanting to awake with you daily.
I cannot live without your love.
Your kisses. Your pressures. Your hot pressures.
Your soft laughter. Your flexible individual in the bed.
Your glance fixes the sunrises in the morning.
Each curve of your blouse.
Warm silk your love, now I had and am behind you
for my more, my more of you.
My invaluable moonflower. My choking black went up.
Who developed in my garden of serenity.
Your tenderness,
when I cannot and am weak and to your face.
I will be never free of your charm which you moulded on me
and that I am grateful for.
Oh my lady which I strike the door of the sky,
wanting to you and thus the bad one, it is you know that I am,
but denied me not that simple cause of pleasure.
I am not worthy of you.
The foam at the edge of the ocean with the mouth
of the river intertwined..
with the cause of my rage which your love pushes me with the madness and over here and there.
The engagements I intervened to defend my love for you.
The constant marking that I received not to leave you.
It is very, even now for you because;
I like thus kissing the bad in you my baby.
My version of soft pandémonium. My eternal joy.
My first and last during amongst this short life.
All the gifts I bought to you to show that my affection for you
is rather never there but rather what we feel.
But my love it is right for you.
To rest here looking at the 'PEAKS' frank of you and
me of a long time forgotten escapes now created by:
a simple mask, past loves installation.
You are my image in value thousand words and are more.
Wind in my sail when I sail my boat on the lake.
My compass for which you guide me directly in your heart.
Final drug for which I become high of day each labor
..
..........
....
and is thus a priceless for you.