poem with no title

how long will it be
before you sense
that if you come when i call
i will offer you my life’s last surrender
(i shall only be alone forever)
i know you can feel my needs
because you think of me when i cry
and the next time i have you naked
i will have your full virility

and that is right, my dearest friend
from you lips, i need no one
i’ll make sure you never forget
the elegance with which you surmised my world

(i won’t ask you to stay
but it would make me very happy if you did)

and you know that when this ends
i will have only one path left to follow
and it’s end is death

my surroundings become liminal by my presence
(there is tilting and shifting in a fog)
i will cross your threshold
though you thought you had no door
i know my way and a band-aid deadbolt shall not keep me out

i cannot stop seeing your face
and i can’t find words to communicate with

i am sick with irresolution
and days of drink
my body cannot wake up
and my soul cannot rest


Actually, this poem does have a title but I won’t publish it.  It’s titled with the initials of a person and I couldn’t decide on any good false initials to replace them with.

Twelve years later and he still hasn’t come.

It did end and I did take a path headed towards death.  Luckily God put the breaks on and I didn’t get to the end of that path.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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