MY PASSION; LOVE

Have you absolutely loooooong for something you couldn’t, never have?


Counting, waiting, expecting, imploring, exasperating, disoriented

That certain, sort of expectation, the ones that keeps you up as infantile

Of the nature once it sucks you in sends you on the trail of mysteries and lost winks



That was it of her I inhaled with us at the playground, and never found enough air

Spending days at the library, the beach, cooling off at bars, sailing the ocean, since air sick

I was the perfect undergraduate for everything they say about the devoted and the longing

Imagination ever wired, stuporous daydreaming: lips spouting; rhythmically synching



When I think now about her, that very tinny play chum with the long raven hair

Of her rosy, mouthwatering, chubby cheeks, her freckles, her red-earth spattering face

The lips, as they lusciously, luxuriously move; at masticating, conversing, revealing

Her eyes; the sparkling in amazement, excitement, adoration; piercing, grasping, shattering



Then, we sliced; before I told her to hold on, wait with me, that adventure was on its way

If I could, I would send us back in time, tell her all the delightful things of her I miss now

That I’m the perfect consort for the bored, the restless; the her; who long for excitement-not he

Judge me not of depraved facetiousness taking to the point of silliness, she is my lost passion.

Comments

Unknown said…
Epic. Loved your poem... thank you
Sunday, December 1, 2013 at 9:13:00 PM GMT+1
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