This poem is inspired by Call Me By Your Name & was written with Visions of Gideon playing in the background.
If Heaven is built on white lies,
then let me believe for the last time
that your breath can run into mine,
giddy with love, you and me, likewise.
But why is it that every time our lips
collide, I can’t taste anything beyond
the quiet? Tell me, when will the thought
of you stop clouding these closed eyes?
Don’t forget the rain and wistful smiles.
Hey love, am I still allowed to call you
so? I suppose names were never our own,
gifted to us so our entirety can
be condensed into palpable syllables,
rolled over the tongue, bitten into and
chewed on until the flavour fades
or tastes suddenly change.
(Why did you change, or did I?)
I guess I thought I would be okay but time
reminded me of its unpredictable path
from now until tomorrow, here I am again.
Silence stretching out as long as a
sleepless night, and I am unlearning desire,
like feeling itself is a bad habit, brea
king words until they lose all meaning,
writing about you until I forget the way
I used to whisper – your name.