The two of us stood in this place on countless occasions,
as you talked to me about so many unimportant topics.
I listened to your words, not because I cared for them;
I listened to your talk because I knew the hunger
for your flesh and blood would be satisfied soon enough.
The way you looked at, “the big old elegant green one
with unkempt hair like mine” was a woman’s talk to me,
yet it never moved me.
I think of you, and I play your mannerisms, your face,
your voice, your speech; I play them over and over in my
mind so that I will never forget.
The riverside willow of you. The unkempt hair that hung
around your beautiful face, like the weeping willow
branches hang down into the river, is all I have left of you.
I realised too late that your time with me here in this
place was more important than only the hunger, which
is all I knew, for your flesh and your blood.
Your flesh and your blood was my desire for you, yet
your words, your actions, your love, and you,
the unkempt hair you, was the reason for my hunger.
Your fancy porcelain throne
has stood the test of time.
A safe haven from your nagging love,
where a zen calm resets your soul.
You sit upon the throne looking at memes
and giggling uncontrollably.
A knock at the door shatters your zen
calm, and you look startled.
Your love peeks in to remind you there’s
a boring lunch on soon.
You say something pleasant, and the eye
rolling from your love begins.
The door doesn’t close properly, and the
zen moment has passed.
You let the trumpet play a wild tune, then give
your sweet porcelain pot a pat.
The thought of being one with the seat again
makes you smile.
A cobalt blue sky.
You with black-rimmed glasses bitching about my grey-rimmed glasses.
The heat intensifies a longing for romantic love once felt long ago.
The sky shifts.
Then the clouds appear in a rush to make rain before too long.
The sunder coloured sky,
just like you and I.
A dark room,
the smell of roses and
breathing from the bed.
Alone and waiting,
wanting to touch;
quickening from the bed.
A touch in the dark,
the room melts away and
so do the sheets, clothes.
A play of shadows;
moonlight from the skylight,
ecstasy in the dark.
Emotions take hold
a sense of things coming together
an inability to hold on to formality
Eyes well up, run
Emotions in motion
a meeting of two on the verge of one
Everything we want
Footsteps on the stairs,
a reminder of what was to come.
Remembering times with the one you loved,
love, live with and love
as a ghost.
Feeling the warmth from
a favourite spot now your spot.
Rewinding, repeating, replaying memories
of the way she moved, the shape of her, her
warm breath on your neck.
A flutter, notes vibrate
and he takes your hand.
A feeling, two alone
and dancing hand to hand.
A flood: emotions,
and you know
his hand is the hand for your heart.
No one to greet you at home
No home to hide from the madness
No way to know what will come next
You meet a stranger on the path
You see an angel in disguise, a reflection of a ghost
You find yourself in her house sipping something sweet
Standing at the door
to your room, you
are oblivious, her gaze.
Standing, looking at you,
thinking of your hair,
feet, the way you love.
Standing still hoping you
won’t notice the way
she lingers, doubts much.
Standing by the door,
you feel the presence
of your beautiful star.
Standing behind you,
you know she looks at
you with so much love.
Standing there, you pretend
not to notice, to feel
the warmth from your sun.
A gloved hand, a bracelet, a smile;
Behind those starlit eyes, many desires.
A reality, the ways of hair, a smile;
Behind that skin no lies, only desires.
A beauty, grace, charm, a smile;
Behind those bright eyes, longing desires.