Romeo (To Juliet): I trust your words. Just call me your love, and I will take a new name. From now on I will never be Romeo again.
Juliet (To Romeo): Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts.
~ Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare
My Valentine. Where art thou?
Have I already seen your face, are you next to me now, touching me tenderly or are you a million miles or more away, feeling me also, but not knowing how to navigate the long, winding road that leads to me, to us, to this?
Valentine, you have the answers to my questions and I yours, though we already have our own answers, you and I and “this” will confirm and confuse and possibly destroy all that we know, all that we feel. All that once was laid out before us will be altered when our worlds clash, combine, combust—me, you, the thought of me, the thought of us, the chaos.
We are brave, though afraid and we want it all, not too much, just enough to shatter, splinter, pierce and infect our days, nights, moments lost in each other, in ourselves in “this.” Valentine, I lied—we don’t want enough, we want more than this, every version of it all. Every extreme. Whatever it holds.
Valentine, my sweet, my soul fucking one, my altered version of reality I once thought was real. However, dear one, reality does not interest me; I want magic, intrigue, desire, I want your erotic thoughts inside me, outside me, penetrating, hard, digging, clawing their way through my flesh.
Where, Valentine, where do I begin, to seek you, to see you and hold you, tell you each thought that will shock, but soften each second you lay next to me, exploring, adventuring, discovering what’s in me, in you, in us.
I want to taste you oh dear Valentine, I want to taste us, are your juices flowing, are they thrashing and pulsating through you now, alerting each heightened sense that runs in your soul, that attracts, though repels and pushes and pulls magnetizing our cells to fuse and ignite.
Valentine, how will you feel, when lost in my arms, when clambering through and moving within, up and through me, in me and out, how do your arms envelop my mind, my shadows, my needs, our aching desires.
Your legs entwined, fuck Valentine, how do they feel, the inner, your thighs, your calves wrapped around, your bones pushing me down and into the sheets. Are your limbs strong, like you, or gentle or do they hurry along, and will they rush love?
Valentine, I wonder, will you enter and hold, will you never give in or give up when you tire? How long will we last, will it just be one hour? Will you take or just leave when the flames start to burn? Can you withstand the pain from heat such as ours, will you fan or just dampen through fear of unknown?
Sweets, my dear one, my love, my saint, my sinner, my shadow that mirrors my light, where art thou and where do you roam, do you seek out the danger, or fly from the harm?
Valentine dearest, do I know your name, is it one that I’ve heard, have you spoken mine too? Do you think of my love, do you ask of the same, are you curious for me, are you patiently waiting, preparing for me?
Will you embrace my world, will you let me see yours, will you hide or stand naked; will we hold no charade?
Will you reach out at night and stroke my cheeks, while I sleep there softly lit by the moon? Will you whisper your thoughts, as we lie there so close, will you ask me my plans and will they meet yours? As some are wild, my world is not calm and I don’t want to settle—are you also free?
Will you look through my kaleidoscope and I yours?
Will you kiss me to wake, to arouse from my sleep, let your fingers run through me and push deep within? Will you pull my hair gently and move it to place kisses wherever your lips wish to roam?
If you had just one choice, what would it be? Would you risk it all, would you live by your sword, would you play your game safely, hold your cards close? Would you choose me, if you had just one choice, I wonder, sweet Valentine, do you gamble and risk?
Valentine, I am curious for more, I have so much to know, but where art thou, where are thou now, my sweet one, my dear Valentine, is all that I ask?
Author: Alex Myles
Editor: Travis May