I cloy myself in raptures <br />and swallow colossus of oblivions <br />because I want to be alive <br /> <br />To be alive is to be with you <br />even if you cannot see <br />the loneliness pouring from my eyes <br /> <br />To be alive is to watch you <br />shoot your hands across the table <br />to touch his, like a pen incidentally <br />writing me a story that <br />divulges nothing of me <br /> <br />I cloy myself <br />in your trivialities <br />and let your agog hands hollow me out <br />and my soul endeavors to thrive <br />in your malignant hands <br /> <br />But I will still choose this – <br />this moment of delinquent bliss <br />and frequent lies, forfeited <br />by the abysses you hauled me from <br />so cloy in your quintessence <br />and be the death of me<br /><br />Norman Santos<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-ll-cloy-myself-with-you/
