my eyes focus and softly close on your smile,
desire rests on the fingertips of imagination
lust lingers loosely on the tongue and lips,
kissing away the moment like brushing away
the cobwebs of a lifeless, lonely day . . .
your image reminds me of happiness and the
way it used to be before time had her way with me,
like a wanton homeless whore at the end of the night;
your smile holds me captive,
your bedroom eyes seduce,
a look of sadness betrays me each time you walk away;
I look at you and see no other
wondering why the day has passed away as
quickly as my father’s death and to whom will I send
my R.S.V. P. for missing your “rights of passage;”
if you were to swallow me, I would want more . . .
if I were to drink you in, you would want more . . .
so, here we are . . .
prisoners of the moment and of each other;
time has seduced us both and left in her wake
delicate reminders of how our attraction
was never really meant to work for us.
November 3, 2010
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