Sitting on the edge of his bed this morning.
Dark brown sheets.
My bags are packed and on the couch.
Silent tears running down my face, looking into his green-yellow eyes, as I realize that he cannot give me what I want, and I cannot ask him to change.
So we let go.
Step back.
Evaluate, analyze, watch.
Another drop in the bucket of my relationship history.
I wonder if I'll ever bail myself out.
About Me
- Poetry of Flesh
- Los Angeles, CA, United States
- Love Sonnet XI
Pablo Neruda
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me,
all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
I'm so sorry.
ReplyDeleteIt's times like these that you just have to tread water, before you even think about bailing yourself out. Hang on in there.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you.
ReplyDeletedb
life is the road.
ReplyDeleteAldonza, these things, they do happen. I'm sorry, too.
ReplyDeleteMysterg, I think life tends to be a treading of water. I'm going to lash myself to a barrel and relax for a time.
Dan, I've been thinking of you and Bastet as well, wondering how that is going to play out. Don't forget to send me your address so I can send out my (probably only) Christmas card this year.
Marquis, yes, and this was just another one for the road. Toss them back and swallow. It was good talking to you last night, even if I was surrounded by overloud college students.