I am one of those persons who only wants to have sex with you

That’s my sole intention

I want to sleep with you
In order to get really close
To your skin, mouth
Your hands
And all the longings you carry
I want to sleep with your emptiness and
Desesperation,
That feeling of everything is
Meaningless anyway

I want to sleep with
All your summers
And your unsorted memories,
Like big piles of photos:
Sleep through your anxious childhood
And all the heavy obstacles you have had to force
With your bare hands
And all your
Lonely nights in life,
I want to sleep with your fear
Of leaving this earth
Or not have any children
Or that your nipple will show above your strapless top,
I want to sleep with your trough all your soiled yearnings
Every difficult decision,
Hopelessness
And the tired skies that pounded
The afternoons into pieces
Behind the Venetian blind
In your room in your parents house,
Every trip and sad
Moments in trains
Stared at by people
Who have never seen you

I want to sleep with
Your old scratched mosquito bites
Your first day in school
Sleep my way through
Your old basement
Filled with posters
And letters written with childish handwriting,
Your old penpals,
Your old houses,
Collections,
Sorrows,
Autumns,
Silent Sundays
And unreal sensations of
Glimmering window panes,
Sun reflected in parked cars
And sounds from the roads
Around the city,
Of life
That goes on somewhere else

Every muscle of your body
Every freckle
Every glimpse of sun
And every second you have waited
Every place you have visited
Every moment you have existed in
Every life you have lifed

I want to sleep with that

I am one of those persons who only wants to have sex with you

Fredrik Lindström