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I like to think I am a master of intimacy
And that has little to do with literacy
It is the ability to connect ultimately
Not only sexually
Connection is not a two way street
It is a one way beat
It is a delightful dance of two
In a moment when you don't have a clue
Intimacy in conversation is being vulnerable
To get hurt and still be comfortable
It is saying what's in your heart
Even if it smells like a fart
To have intimacy what are you willing to let go?
What parts of you are you afraid to show?
What do you still not love in you?
What are you afraid of? Boo
Is it about not looking so good?
Is it about being misunderstood?
Are you hiding under a hood?
Just because you could?
Are you afraid of being rejected?
Or maybe not perform as expected?
What is the secrete you are dying to tell
But so afraid of being in hell
Are you afraid to ask for what you really want?
In the face of your truth will you daunt?
Are your needs not met?
Looking back filled with regret?
The truth is I am no master of intimacy
For too long I practiced my celibacy
I am afraid just like you are
To be hurt and left with a scar
If we are all afraid of each other
To be exposed to another
Who is left to be intimate with?
Is intimacy is just a myth?
Is the scar of love is worth missing?
Kissing, or dismissing?
Receiving or giving?
Or just being a way of living
Kiss me, touch me, love me
Hug me, know me, listen to me
See me, smell me, and taste
Don't let me go to waist
I am just like you
Sometimes just want to screw
Sometimes want to be close to you
And sometimes I have no clue
Scar me with your love
Being alone I am tired of
I am no longer afraid to ask
Come to me and I will take off my mask
Love,
Steven
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