December 21, 2013

 

...and wishes made for another year.

April 1, 2013

Here is how it began.

The central passion of my life.

You spoke.

I was dazzled.

I held back.

But I could not stay away.

We were surrounded by others.

Yet we spoke privately.

Technology created a relationship

Curiously medieval in tone.

A chevalier who courts his lady from afar

Without a trace of physicality.

Experiencing this assault on the senses

Was akin to traveling from the pristine

Isolation of my soul’s snowy pine forest

To some opulent Oriental bazaar.

You voiced knowledge of a sensuality

I had held back: fire in a shell of sensibility.

I dreamed of your stature.

The elegance of your long, slender limbs.

I felt you must possess a candid stare

I knew it would be penetrating.

I prayed it would let me in.

Where we might find common ground.

So I’d resigned myself.

Our relations had to remain

As such and for the time being.

But could they sustain this remove yet devotion?

We were water.  We were inlets and islands.

We needed to flow and ebb at each other’s land.

Dear Professor of Desire.

A man who does not need to swagger his confidence.

Few have known as well as I the discrete

Difference between profane and sacred love.

All restraints fleeing my body

As I unfurled into a sail and wind

That transported us

To regions I had never traveled before.

I think of the soft hair on the nape of your neck

And it seems an impossible thing to me.

I heard your voice and felt your breath.

I heard your heart on top of mine.

It seems the vastest and saddest miracle of my life.

I touched your hair.

  

What wisdom is there for me

To focus on the gravity of love?

I feel unmoored

So floating in the void.

I’ve lost the love-weight

That had anchored me for all of those years.

In my loss, I often wonder

Why I left my rocks.

Why I turned from the snowy pines.

Was it not to give up hope?

I would not have had as much joy

But I would have avoided much pain.

I know now that any relation I ever had was meaningful to me

Built on the rope of hope, however mistaken.