I lie in poems by @kingdom1111, 50% for campusconnectng

In them, I never cry when I'm with you.
You're not onion, and I am not eyes.
I am strong as a shield; and you're not a sword.
You don't hate it when I color you with my fairy tales.
You love my floating epistemology; and that
I am too deep for God-talk..

In them, we hold hands and talk about children;
The one you'll call Sun. The one I'll call Moon.
And we don't quarrel about how many we'll have.
I love that your breath smells of ginger;
You love the way my pubic rainforests scar your face.
I never dream of you leaving with my charm in your chest.
And you're not seeking new daggers to kiss me with.

In them, I never fell from your eyes.
Orgasms never grew tasteless.
Words did not become viruses.
We died of old age - not of shadows we empowered.
We let ourselves roam past the night, dillying freely with the lights of noon.
You did not tire of my vocabulary and
I did not regret the mercies that gave you powers over me --

In them, we're still curled up in a wan room.
You're not in a hurry to leave - and I'm not about to get angry.
We're at peace where we are - lying and loving.
Lying and loving, tenderly.