Happiness is the absence of apathy,
A quality we've both clung to for so long that it became emotion.
But our remnants of unhappiness lay limp, alone, unwanted, and discarded,
Like the rumpled clothing at the foot of the bed.
You've coaxed joy from my joyless soul.
Happy is all I can be.
Happiness is the force of your kiss,
The way you lift my thigh against your ribcage.
You have no inhibitions, no reason not to pinch my ass at random
Or push me against a wall and have your way with my lips,
Or, smirking, whip in hand, tell me to bend over.
Happiness stings, but in the best way.
Happiness is the nimble movement in your limbs
And the proud, smooth curves of your face.
You are made of grace and truth and wisdom
As any holy being should be.
I'm so in awe of you,
I can't help but look upon your every move.
Happiness is the way all life stops in your presence.
You twirl this spinning globe of rock on one finger
As the others trail my neck, my shoulders, the small of my back,
My nape and the backs of my knees.
My breath halts with the press of your hand into muscle,
And the façade of the world unravels before my eyes.
Happiness is the hangover that comes with being fucked so good, so hard
That my knees shake long after climax.
The fever that broke at 1 in the morning lingers at 1 in the afternoon,
My head still reeling, my dreams hallucinations of your body,
Everything below my hips sore from impact.
I'm ecstatic with illness.
Happiness is the key you have to my heart and mine to yours.
We share our breaths, our thoughts, our words,
Finish each other's sentences and each other's meals,
Fit into each other's grooves without effort.
Was this divine planning?
You would know, after all, since you are divine.
Happiness is the lightning across my brain that tells me to let go of all inhibitions.
I smile like a moron, dance like no one's watching,
Let myself loose and never return,
For I have discovered the loveliness of you,
A loveliness with no room for regret or censorship.
YOU ARE READING
Aphrodite
Poetry"There's a blaze of light in every word, it doesn't matter which you heard: the holy or the broken, 'Hallelujah.'"- Leonard Cohen The poems in this series center on two characters: I, the speaker, and You, the speaker's subject. I is not a specific...
