(Found this. Liked. Reposted as reminder of more competent verse...)
I've tried to take your measure,
each night, while you lay sleeping,
counted your heartbeats,
your liters of breath - light, fragrant, and somewhere in the night turning fetid like a dragons and you will wake in the morning with a birds nest erupting from your head,
by then I will be asleep, until then I
lie awake thinking - this is perfect;
But how can I measure this?
the volume of your breast in my palm,
the curve of your buttocks in my groin,
the perfect hollow in your shoulder where I rest my chin,
wiggling it to evoke those spasms
your hair tickling my nose, pulling you closer -
blown whispers tickling your ear
how lightly can I bite before you scream to quit?
imagining, reliving the nibbling of your toes;
the perfect fit of every limb to limb;
your breathing, softly out, softly in.
Our days measured with coffee and cigarettes,
trivial and escalating quarrels,
quiet moments of reconciliation;
evenings with glasses of wine
nighttime's, sleeping.
Nothing lasts forever.
This will not last forever.
How rich are we?
in the midnight hours, counting our shared pennies for a final bottle of wine, pack of cigarettes,
There is no one richer than us
we can count ourselves the richest people we know
Richer than kings, than Midas or Croesus
No-one, nobody is richer than us
Nothing would I trade for this.
Your cold hands and feet warmed upon my chest,
I've counted your teeth with my fingers
tongue interrupting -
thumb pressing, whorling in your navel.
the pressure of my hands upon your throat;
and afterwards
lie awake thinking - this is perfect;
But how can I measure this?
You cannot measure this.
Our conversations:
I have counted the words, sorted the lies from the truth, the wisdom from the nonsense, the love and the hate;
The long unending silences:
The full spectrum of white, grey, black lies told and ignored
The countless unspoken, unasked questions
Traced lightly upon you the infinite shape of exulted nights
I have mapped the constellations upon your back, joined birthmarks and destinies;
breathing quietly upon your neck
Nothing lasts forever,
I want this to last forever.
And I've taken your measure, tried to somehow preserve this, these perfect moments,
to distill them into pictures, feelings, smells, tastes, words
From photographs,
I've tried to paint you;
Somehow, crushed foil tubes, every hue mixed upon the palette
the smell of linseed and turpentine
A photograph of you for reference, I need no photographs,
an eye, rubbed out, fingers stained with colour - alazarin, pthalo, cerulean blue, naples yellow, titanium, zinc white,
painted again, rubbed out, my talent not equal the impossible tasks your love has set for me;
but I try again and again and if my painting is futile then there are always those inarticulate words, there are rare moments and gestures;
You cannot measure this.
smaller rations of joy,
greater portions of sorrow...
and always we left the repairs to tomorrow
Nothing lasts forever, no one lasts forever;
I thought that you, we'd last forever and so guessed at the measuring,
Fools that we were to think there would be time.