Tag Archives: Love affairs

Rumpled Bed

This room is not mine
with its tousled sheets,
remnants of bathroom fixtures,
books, dirty clothes, debris
scattered about, layered in dust,
looking like a whirlwind
had swooped in, scooped it up,
and dropped it whatever –

It might not even be his –
the memories of another woman’s
scent still fills his nostrils,
befuddling his clouded mind –
making “letting go” a distant dream.

I am but an infrequent visitor
who lives in a fantasy
that one day he might look at me
with those golden brown eyes
and know that there was a love
who would not leave
when another
more tempting morsel
flavored her palette.

I looked about the room
knowing yet again
I have given my heart
to someone who couldn’t return
the intensity of feelings
in equal measure –

Seems I have spent this life
in the shadow of other women –
Their midnight stirrings
sharing the same bed
I so sparingly sleep in.

Searching for a Panacea

Searching for a panacea
we drift in somnambulance
seeking the respite
to this long-suffering despair
cloaked in remorse
we wrap its dull edges
about bodies
tired of futility,
from meaningless pressures
offering no consolation
and hold tightly
for fear of drowning’s end,
in morose morbidity
should even an integer slip.
Discouraged, disillusioned –
but a spark remains
always there,
lurking in shadows
of some inner force
to relinquish pain
and surge forward
onto a more brightly lit path,
one more than existence,
but rather of life.

Nay Sayer

So easily am I captivated
by your deep spring eyes
the laughter that sometimes
curls the tips of those lips
the sensitivity
that crinkles your brow

But I fear you –
dread these years
I so willingly give
will one day be cast
aside like yesterday’s
garbage –
I have not the strength
to believe your love
is real.

I dread the power
so willingly given
to your hands –
How do you respect
what is so easily given?
I am but a mouse
who creeps and crawls,
scurrying to meet
your simplest desire.

Yet, no matter
how much love
you may give
or I squander on you
there lurks a decrier
within, shouting down
each gentle touch,
disdaining your
vulnerabilities for
they may threaten my
securities –
demanding your perfection
yet waiting for
defection.

Back Again?

Why are you back again?
You told me you were going
for good – never to pass
my way or hold my hand.

Does your hand need holding now?
Is it that?  Or have I become
a convenience – a stopping off
place between two destinies,
an easy retreat from fear
and frustration.

I did not run behind
– calling for your return,
but let you go – to pursue
your path as you choose,
accepting I was not
the one you looked for,
and still not found.

So why the grand welcome?
I don’t understand –
first you want to be free
and when no chains are there
to bind and chafe tender skin –
you return, only this time
I know how quickly you run,
this time I won’t give over
those bits of soul
freely given before.

Learning me will be harder
this time – and walking out
the door may be easier
the second time around . . .
only – I shall be
doing the walking.