Peter Inglenook

Polar opposites we are not. You. Me. Perfectly.

I fear that one day we will become a cliché, just before we become the devil's one true son. But for now, our love is a forbidden one. Our path is sinewy and curved. There might be rain one day. A storm the other. Then snow. But for now, there is nothing but sun.

We find a new world behind every tree, a new bird song, a new reality. At times you giggle like a little child. At times you look at me, trying to draw lines upon my face. And then you smile. You purse your lips at me and I wonder what they would feel like on my chest. But before I can ask, you burst out laughing and I join you in this our ecstasy.

You: my loving, my considerate, my beautiful, my true.