Saturday, November 2, 2013


I think of you and feel of you
an adolescent obsession,
a gleeful retreat,
to something near forgotten.
Lovely woman, make it last so long
it is ne'er ever forgotten again.

What then the hooks what then the snags,
What then the truths of life,
the money the house the friends and not-friends,
the families the sons,
the aging and looming horizon,
the slow numbing of sensation,
the pains and ills,
the plans unfulfilled,
the intentions unwaxed?
Am I so flawed somewhere inside,
you will someday despair of me,
Are we so wrong in the interweaving of wants,
that the day shall come we look at each other and breathe,
"No, this is not what I want"?

Slowly we circle, looking in to each other,
ignoring sub-orbits and calls from afar,
stepping lightly over or even tripping at rocks and roots,
As closer we come, as quicker we spin,
Finally we embrace,
In oneness again.

No comments: