Florence + My Heart Machine

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‘ And oh my love remind me; what was it that I said’

I can’t find it – the virtual piece of you that found me so very long ago – what kind of person loves like this. what kind of woman.

Searching desperately through the URL of your heart, trying so hard to find a piece of what drove me toward you – looking for comments of faith and her snickering sarcasts.

The few worded paragraphs screaming out to me and into me as my eyes lock on to your words – shyly intended to reach a few souls and your hope was that I would be out there somewhere and read it : and there I was; here I am again!

I am reaching for you too

I am searching

I will cross as many borders as I must , just to know what your voice sounds like – I imagine how you would look at me when you’re sulking or when you are trying my patience.

This is my personal advert; I hope that you will stumble upon this page someday and read this as I read you…

I collect URL sentences in a book

I collect as many bits of you as I can find

I am fighting against distance and time

To get to hold you someday

to kiss you

to know that if I really were to see you

You would be graceful enough to stay

stay with me a second – and if indifference prevails

I will encourage you to run away.

7 Devils haunt my dreams

7 Devils and one S’aint

Florence found me again

I was searching for you

and although you may not want to accept it

I know

In your own way

You’re searching for me too

For K.

praeteriti temporis est semper

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Does your breath depend on mine the way
My breath cannot without your air?

In the silences do you sometimes wonder?
Is your truth hidden away?
Is tucked in every night with sheets of deceit so that not even I can see or glimpse it?

Bestow on me then, the courage to have faith
In the brave hearts of men and women
The ones we touched
Those that maybe touched us

Because true love they say; is always in the past

She said; I want you to love me

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An echo of dark rooms

of candle-lit walls

and I

melting like the wax to their wick

in the palms of your hands

so gentle

rhythmic

beautiful

for a second taken aback by the beauty in the masculine face

the tight grip

She said; I want you to love me

but don’t ask me to speak it

instead just listen to the sound of my breathing

She screams now when I doubt her

I can almost smell the scent of her hair

her skin

her heart

and I want to lover her

endlessly

in the downpour of our mistakes and pretences

She says to me: I want nothing to come of this

yet

in the morning she cuddles me

wraps my arms so tightly around her that I cannot picture them being around another

and I scream at her

I love you

I love you, you just haven’t found me yet