deepundergroundpoetry.com
keep me away
she’s the love I was afraid of;
I’m the love she never wanted.
we dream under the moon of the misbegotten. when there is
no moon, there are no dreams, & the distance between us
looms big. like the sky. or the desert.
heaven has labeled me drifter. my crime is that I drift among
women. she finds me lingering in a pale shadow, & sees me as
a man who has the need of a woman, & can give to a woman
in return. or else I surround her with a poem, & she reads that I
will ease her from her suffering as we make love.
we meet in the dark, me & my midnight woman. I see her through
a window, a window of time & distance, & loneliness is wrapped
around her like a caul.
she knows what I require to soothe my desperation, & she delivers
it hard & solid, like a back alley fix. funny how an orgasm is like
shootin’ up dope: that same exquisite rush of agony.
then she lays there, quiet. I look at her lips, & I kiss her – a kiss
that must take the place of words. but at times, I wonder about
things, about the men she has known… & this affair… what is it,
& for how long. & sometimes… I’m not sure.
I suppose love is an assassin,
because she is the love I was afraid of,
and I am the love she never wanted.
we were made for love, & we were made to hurt.
but without that hurt,
I would know I have never loved…
(Art: Eric Bruinewoud)
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