I tried to be with you.
But, we couldn't make it happen.
You have asked why not?
I have asked why not?
I recently figured it out, my love.
bell hooks tells me: "A major part of love is commitment. If we are committed to someone, if I'm committed to loving you, then it's not possible for me to 'fall out of love."
I love you.
You love me.
We cannot fall out of love.
There is a commitment issue.
Though you are committed to loving me.
Though I am committed to loving you.
You are not committed to making love with me.
You, if you were free, and were able to sex me up, chose, choose, chosen again and again, someone else.
I was left alone, wishing you were with me.
I was left wondering what was wrong with me.
I was left horny.
My heart was horny.
Left to the reservation of my mind.
When my body yearned of fucking around with you, in the hot springs of Santa Cruz.
I wanted to taste you again.
I wanted to be tasted.
I wanted sweet, passionate, sex.
But, you, with all your glory, could not be with me for so long, for so serious, and you went off to fuck another man, and came back to say that you used up all your free time, and are busy again: maybe next time dear, I still love you...
...That is why I can't be with you.
You are loving,
I am loving,
But you lack ability to commit to perfect love,
You lack what I need: continual sex between us--not ignoring each others needs, but making sacrifices to satisfy them--you lack the sex I need.
You keep me falling, lacking commitment to my flesh.
Thank goodness I have wings to fly.