George

I don’t know how you managed to appear at the perfect time –

Just before I was about to give up on boys altogether,

Give up on the romantics, the faithful ones, the committed ones 

because I’d forgotten that they had even existed at all.

Suddenly there you were, looking like George Harrison,

with your long hair and your beard; your silence and your brooding dark eyes.

I instantly knew I must have you.

But I never would have fathomed the feeling would be mutual,

Never imagined a boy I could only conjure in my dreams would manifest himself into my reality,

That I could reach out and touch you,

That I could call you mine.

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Pillow Talk.

I used to have this fear that I would hear you utter someone elses name in your sleep.
The possibility that you might love another; the graveyards of old girlfriends haunting your dreams.

You always wake me in the night with your ramblings.

Last night I awoke to you stroking my cheek. You said “I love you, Sam,”
I said “I love you too, baby,”
Then you rolled over and went back to sleep.

That’s how I know it’s real.

An automatic phrase at the tip of your tongue,
Nothing to hide or conceal.
No thought behind it, no rehearsed words,
Something that escapes you even in sleep.

You may be asleep, but your love is always awake.
I’ve come to realise that love is a state of being,
Your words reminded me.

They are the best words to wake up to,
Even if you have no recollection of it,
I will dream of those words for the rest of my life.