A New

Then I understood I would never
Have enough of you
And you would never have your fill of me
Turning in your embrace
I pressed myself closer
Trying to climb inside you if possible
You pulled my mouth to yours again
We stood there until the sun had long set
Showing one another our deep love
Using soft lips and desperate hands
Twisting tongues and gentle whimpers
‘Til the rising moon witnessed
The murmured promises we whispered
Of our new forevermore

tara caribou | ©2019

Read this and more in my poetry book, Four.

8 thoughts on “A New

  1. another one i had to read a dozen times … i enjoy that which confronts and makes me think …
    theres a certain desperation in a love that is so strong – but if we can never get enough, never get our fill? is that an indicator of strength or of a problem? should that even be something we consider? what if we are the only one for whom the excitement never abates, over time … does love fall into a rut? is it a problem if it doesnt?
    maybe im the crazy one, when writing like this seems to speak to me in seemingly unintended ways … i’m not going to discount that possibility.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Excellent points. You’ve made me think… and I like that. You ask some really great questions… and now I have soul-searching to do. 💕

      I sort of think that “never getting our fill” as like two glasses of liquid. One pours into the second and the liquids mix and swirl. The second pours back into the first, and before you know it, both liquids are now really one. It’s not two separate. And that “fill” is satisfied while also creating a long to be filled even more. To not be alone. To be joined.

      Liked by 1 person

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