Untitledcarefully held in a memory
of unique sensations,
thoughtfully written in
short notes of apologies,
passed discreetly yet deliberately,
we intended to recapture the
unnecessary conveying of
intimate details of our secrets
while like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle,
fit perfectly...
embracing...
we gave ourselves each other,
facing our own reality
and the trembling warmth
between us..
touching and making love
for the last time.
November 30, 1984
Untitled
unraveling ourselves in
each other's fantasies,
uninhibited and relentless,
we abandon despair and loneliness
seeking the satisfaction resurrected
by the brief sensation of our touch
and the mutual release of frustrations
exercised in harmony,
pure and sincere,
without remorse or
the benefit of doubt,
delicately shared like a gentle rain
falling onto the full harvest of
yellow and red leaves
scattered in random patterns
of unfulfilled dreams
and our own expressed love and
two words say what we feel
what we have shared
and what we must do while
we separately look to the memory
worthy of external captivity and
from whose reflected image we
remain in each other's souls.
November 20, 1984
Untitled
and maybe when our journey ends
our tears will no more prevail
for those who have struggled least
will be the most rewarded while
our pleasure was conceived long ago
in the knowledge it would soon be over;
the today's of our tomorrows came in
unexpected headline and Thursday's Column
spoke of common things most feared
that bridge the gap between ignorance
and insight... and we, like Eighteenth
Century beggars are denied its
relevance and its existence... and,
maybe when our journey ends
somebody will light a candle for the
painter to capture our inheritance.
November 8, 1984
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