blkdragon

grounded
2003-10-25 00:29:29 (UTC)

The doings-poetry

What was I doing?
I don't pursue, but I found myself chasing you
Was it your cafe au lait skin,
your hazelnut eyes, your pleasing scents
and the full curve of your thighs
or the thought of your touch that I wanted so much?
Was it the element of mystery that surrounded you
that kept me stuck like glue
or your quick wit and inquisitive mind
that brought out the rhyme?
What was I doing?
Couldn't I see that we were diametrically opposed
or did the mere thought of you open my nose
wide enough for the ring you would offer me?
Did the prose that sprang from the well you dug
fit you, move you, cause you to love
that which you were shielded from?
My school was hard knocks, whereas you toured London's
blocks and here we found each other...wanting.
What was I doing?
When I daydreamed of our life together
in glorius and inclement weather.
Sharing the sun caressing our skin and clinging to each
other as the rain beat on the tin roof of our lovemaking.
Blazing the path that didn't exist before us, revelling in
each other's touch as none before had dared.
Believing our love to be legendary and finding that you
were scared of the way my heart caused yours to respond.
What were you doing?
Looking for me, to find what you didn't know you
needed..love/hope..the truth that won't be deleted or
changed to fit your designs
Could my heart burn down the walls you built to shelter
your preconceived notions of mating time
Had you met me first, would there be reasons to fear,
reasons for tears to fall on shoes from Saks Fifth Avenue?
Would the rocks you blinged outshine the brilliance of my
outpourings of affection you clutched to your bosom?
What were you doing?
When the warmth overcame you, enfolded you and unearthed
the smile, the smile that said, "he loved me all the
while"?
He loved me when I was skeptical, he took his time
and composed the rhymes that spoke of his heart.
He loved me when I was selfish, he gave just the same
and said he wanted to give his name..to only me.
He loved me when I was arrogant, he quietly accepted my
rantings and now I find myself panting when I think on him.
How I wanted his hand to trace the bones on my face and
linger on my lips as he tips my face to meet his, I gladly
serve him my life.
What were you doing?
When you said, for the first time, "Night My Love";
strumming the chords of Infinity, the chords that spoke of
the Trinity of Man.
The Union that speaks of Creation.
When you told him that he may be the 1, when you felt the
walls you built begin to come undone?
Did you tell yourself "No,no this cannot be, I've yet to
find me and now I'm losing myself in you".
Did you retreat to Motherhood and your Career out of a
need for fear or because the committment required two?
"I'm not ready", is what you said, "you were right";
remains my plight and I sit here with myself and memories
that worm their way to my heart at night.
I don't feel any better knowing your love for me has a
tendency for flight
The windows of opportunity don't have an indefinite shelf
life and gravity weighs heavy.
I never wanted to say "Goodbye", but before I can love
you, I have to love me!
What are we doing?




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