This Is How Long I’ve Known You, And How Long I Will Love You Still
By Max Mundan
A minute.
I have known you for a minute.
I have loved you for
a minute,
and in this minute
I have given you my
truth, in all its layers
of deception and you have
unloaded yours to me,
so that I may hold it
in my hands, embracing it
with passion and forgiveness,
loving your perfect imperfections,
your cheerful sorrow and
your melancholy bliss,
for this is our
minute and we have only
a minute.
A minute.
I have known you for a minute.
I have loved you for
a minute,
and in this minute
we must hold each other,
as tightly as we can, drinking deep
of the laughter and the tears
that have passed between us,
the spit, the blood, the sweat and
struggle and pain and lust
that have moved between us.
We must squeeze each other’s bodies,
like we’ve never touched
before, like we’ll never touch
again, for this is our
minute and we have only
a minute.
A minute.
I have known you for a minute.
I have loved you for
a minute,
and in this minute
we should make love,
with thunder and lightning, with
earthquake and hurricane, raining
our desire in each other’s
desert, for my sand is begging
for your water and your trees
are reaching for my light and
your flowers are yearning
for my kisses and my rocks
are waiting for your waterfall and
my skin is aching for your
touch, because this is our
minute and we have only
a minute, because this is our
life.
A lifetime.
I have known you for a lifetime.
I have loved you for
a lifetime.