i imagine –
days with you –
strolling through open doors,
passing through endless rooms of
contentment.
feeling close –
without the need to touch,
we’d share that which cannot be said.
rather than speeding straight into the
need –
by-passing the greed of
have-to-have –
lingering –
instead – on the very ledge
of – just enough…
your eyes hold secrets –
places i have never been –
realms of unclaimed pleasure –
i would die to comprehend!
oh my duplicitous Pygmalion!
while you were sleeping,
i was years away…
… trapped,
as you would say –
contained within my pre-assembled tomb of ambiguity.
but there is where i find –
i,
my – me…
and while you walk in circles
around my truth,
expecting walls of nonchalance to crumble,
i smile –
free of your contagious animosity…
how simply –
archaic!
your words,
so fervent in their request to be my savior –
however,
your eyes do not invite –
and your clinched fists can never hold these trembling hands…
standing too close to the edge 