Saturday, March 14, 2009

Another Week Till We Meet And Of These Things Can Speak

I met you at 205 under a soft, starry, clear night
filled with passion I offered of myself and red wine
bled for intoxication and a little shy of affection
let's exchange names and make a connection

then increasing times after that lip-laden evening
quick became us a pattern of philosophical teething
back and forth till you contended I too intense
but as much as wished, I couldn't my hope prevent

there's an extent to which you get in my mind
creeping and seeping so many thoughts find
concerned or imagined where you are subject
in a combination of muse, inspiration and loving

I begin to write you text messages at times
and seemingly think of questions and lines
to enquire of your position and reflect upon mine
in relation to your perception and world's design

Dani, is the past a grotesque animal or is it a lie?
can you say it is so when it plagues our mind's eye
because to be grotesque is so displeasing to view
and all I know of it is contemplation and review

one day online you reasoned a belief but gave no reason
as I typed a hypothesis your silence it teased me
I'd love to know where your emotionless roots
and why you're determined but the present to exclude

perhaps it's unfamiliarity that begs my inquisition
or the dissimilarity in perception and so many positions
that we oppose but respect and like mirrors reflect
to gain images of other selves or let feelings intersect

you never say goodbye and I wonder where you go
when online our words too few and I'm just to hope
we see each other again to resume all left to speak
and I keep writing whilst waiting for you another week

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other people waiting

we're not strangers anymore