AS81

I went to slake my melancholy
In your vibrant lap of life;
In my mind, my fantasy,
I leapt forward to fulfilment,
Fired by fondest memories
Of familiar pleasures past;

To reconnect with you, my dear,
And find out how you’ve been –
Who knows what lies beneath
The simplest touch of life?
From a woman who loves pink
And prefers to eat blue steak….

I promised too much, too soon,
And delivery fell through;
Hesitated, as weakness laid me low
(With hints of age and frailty);
Then faltered, once we’d agreed,
So – after hope – I let you down.

Yes, anyway, the fault was mine,
I cannot change it now –
Explain? What use is that!
– Only try to make amends.
Am I forgiven? Unforgiven?
Or cut off like a knife?

Not knowing leaves me free:
To hope, to meet again,
To walk that path with you
One day, just for a while,
When you may let me know
What I am allowed to do.

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On our journey

The_Maiden_National_Museum_of_Scotland

I do not lightly go
I do not freely go
To the shadowlands
Of pain and bleak despair,
Our place of isolation.

Why would you take me there?
Why do you take me there?
If you will not try
Any more, to escape
The stark black guillotine.

Points of View, or, Tides

Yelling! Out, out, out!
Against! Over, over, over!
And again: What you see
Depends on where you stand.

I am drawn to your conflicted love:
Je déteste toi ! Baise-moi !
We share our food,
We drink from the same spring,
We mirror our reflections
But we don’t see eye to eye.

I wish you joy of what I give
– sweat of my brow, toil of my hand –
I give you all I have to give
– what you wanted, asked at last –
But face the acrid, bitter taste
To see trust lightly spurned.

Hot anger blows over and away;
But cold fury’s icy grip does not
Relinquish us, its hand of fate
Is frozen, unforgiving, dark,
Sweeping out to sea
On entropy’s relentless tide;

Implacable, we bite and tear,
Sharp cuts, intended wounds,
To hurt the other’s tender heart;
Distressed relief released,
In blood, but merciless,
Until we can love no more.

Yelling! Out, out, out!
Against! Over, over, over!
But always: What you see
Depends on where you stand.