On Longing

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I long for you to choose me,
not for my silken tresses or girlish waist,
but for my soul made of ice, fire, and woman.

I long for your hands to find me
where there’s no math,
only the precision of desire.
I could dwell with you forever
without a map.

In a place where even outside, you are inside my city
And landmark aren’t mutable
and you aren’t removable.
Where we could hold something real ever after.

I long for your cloak and resolve to fall.
Come cling, devour, captures. Feel me shiver and shake.
Lead me where no one has invented goodbye
and ardor in high demand.
A place where you love me and you love me Where we savor the ache.

Let my hips, under yours, grow to fit your loneliness.
Let your arms make a soft place for me on your bed of granite.
Shadow me in yourself. Your light bending through me.
Changing me into something other than what I was.
A queen. A goddess. Let your lips tell me
you’ve been expecting me.

-Tosha Michelle

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74 thoughts on “On Longing

  1. I long for you to choose me,
    not for my silken tresses or girlish waist,
    but for my soul made of ice, fire, and woman.

    everything….after that stanza…was just color on the rose petals.

    Wow…..

    Liked by 4 people

      1. Sad for both of you even though it’s nice you get to read. Here it is around 16 degrees celsius and the flowers are blooming like crazy everywhere while the sun is without fault high in sky πŸ˜€

        Liked by 2 people

  2. Dear Tosha, wanted to be the first to enjoy you for a long time in post. Today I managed. Wow. A good feeling. πŸ™‚ I think few times in life I read phrases like these: “Let my hips, under yours, grow to fit your loneliness. Let your arms make a soft place for me on your marble bed.”
    Thank you, you’re spectacular. I love your space. Good evening and Weekend.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Wow, Tosha — this is one hot piece of writing! Whew, my eyeballs were burning just reading it! πŸ™‚ Very lovely indeed. “Where we savor the ache” is just one of many lines — hell, why quote lines when the whole poem rocks. Very sweet. And … I like Chet, too. πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 3 people

  4. One of my favourite pieces by Chet to savour this beautiful poem on longing. Ahh that place where nobody has invented yet goodbye, the brink of potentiality. I love when you are between whimsical and desirous. Perhaps you were countering the cold outside but that was sizzling even despite the nostalgia and longing πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Mr Modigliani

    There is something magical that happens when one expresses such desire with so much purity. The lyricism of the soul just springs forth. It is like the sculpture of Rodin in poetic form. I loved this piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. cjackwrite81

    The only problem that I see with your poetry is that they are always longing for something you have yet to find….
    I hope you find it…
    ..and then post about how amazing it is.
    You deserve it.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You may be right! It is the Yorkshire way to peculate the micturate. But we need to know each others quirks to take it properly. Therefore, for now, rudeness will stand at the fore of our “Mate hood”.
        Although I must take the piss out of your state dance!! THE SHAG?! seriously? That is childishly amusing. heehee
        tatty-bnoo!

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried shagging on the boulevard, Mister. My quirks are many. I’ll keep them hidden. You just keep thinking I’m perfect. I mean how could you think I am any less? This is a whole lot of awesome going on here. Oh brother! Note, being full of myself is actually not one of my quirks. Until we rude again, Adieu

        Liked by 1 person

      3. so many things to sy about that first sentence!! they, however, would veer into crude and I refuse to steer my car in that direction just yet
        Until we once more ride the rude rail together. Tatty-bnooooooo

        Liked by 1 person

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