imperfection

It is …
the imperfection.
my imperfection.
that allows me to search
to run against the grain,
to deviate from a norm,
pursuing an uncharted course
within my mind, which is truly, well rehearsed.
purposely, i find in you
i seek your imperfection
reaching out,
grasping for your mind
the design of your web. that too, i have in mine
in truth, your words
hoping...they will navigate
instructing my hands.
allowing...
as if, the mortal clay were to be mixed and molded
momentarily, i imagine your skin.
is this happening once again?
as the warmth comforts me.
you comfort.
the gentleness of your curves,
envisioning which has long been a curse.
wrapping my eyes upon you,
your shadows positioning themselves
fulfilling the depths of my imagination
providing the gravitation…
not knowing if i might be given your invitation.