a thousand lovers

( note: to be read in a broad, yorkshire (northern english) accent )

i've loved you all, she said.
with some of you, i've been to bed;
with others, we barely touched at all,
but those were sometimes more intense,
the way you did enthrall me.
we touched in ways beyond the sense.

i've loved you all, she said:
the days and nights we spent;
or others, just coffee and a stroll,
but oh, how i remember when,
that thing you said, i'll never forget,
and the way you tilted back your head,
that look you'd sometimes give me when,
and how you'd stand, and sit, and then.

i've loved you all, she said.
a thousand lovers strewn across
a life of curiosity,
of learning how you think-feel-see
the world in ways i'd never have known,
if you hadn't come along and shown
the contents of your heart and head,
and all that lies between.

you asked me questions so direct
they shocked me into seeing clear
what was before so out of reach.
you jumped right off your chair that time,
angry, where i couldn't be,
at things that i'd let happen to me,
and finally, i got it.
you taught me how to meditate,
and you, i love your logic.
you taught me how to fantasize,
explore what lies beyond closed eyes.
you taught me vulnerability,
with your insecure, sheer brilliance:
you taught me to unravel a text,
it's layers of significance.

from you, i learned history,
of sufis and prophets: your family.
you showed me the power of tradition,
which you couldn't pass-over so lightly.
you showed me what it is to sense
with such penetrating empathy.
and you, i love your openness
to explore, continually.
in you, i loved your unbound, enthusiastic energy.
and you, i loved how much of you
was hidden from me.
you taught me how to skate and play
creatively with the streets.
you taught me how to dominate you
oh so lustfully.

i've loved you all, she said.
i've been in love so many times,
filled me with fascination,
letting your life brush against mine,
standing, tip-toed on the edge,
leaning as close as i could get,
sparked with inspiration.

i've loved you all, she said.
the days and nights we spent.
something touched between us:
we didn't have to go to bed,
although, sometimes we did.
maybe i wasn't there so long.
maybe you weren't either.

i don't know who i am today,
apart from every one of you.
i don't know who'll be coming next,
but i know i'll give them oh so much,
like i always do.
i'll give them everything of me,
and, i guess, by logical extent: every one of you.
so at least you can relax and know
that they will love you too.