She is a desire
A side part, delicacy divine
A wishing mark
And displaced interest of affection
Her voice, arms, and eyes
Her mouth, mind, and
Thighs
Are substitutional in manner
A momentary discourse
With no consequences or
Recourse
Because she is free
Commanding no price
Offer
Or bargain
Each piece is given
Blindly, hopelessly and
Enchantingly free
Each day with her serves
As a memory
An airy desire of life
Dimensions that sparkle
More than the permanent fixture
Temporarily
Fading fast
Yielding to a realistic
Place
She is but a whisper
Feeling exuberant
To the point where
Actions are questioned
Love is second guessed
And interludes seem to be
Imagined |
So far removed
That possibly she never
Even existed
Because happiness is still
In existence even when
She's gone
Love still grows
And flourishes
Making bonds dig deeper still
Dreams are fulfilled
Children created and born
Lead lifetimes
With no thought of
Alternative wombs
Origin is always home
And she
She is not encapsulated
In the private microcosms
But remains
On the outskirts
A gypsy divine
Weaving distractions
Deflecting worries
Into crystals blown
From her hands
Offering her soul
As a momentary refuge
Until thirst is replenished
And balance is restored
A forgotten aberration
She drifts
floats
and fades
as an indulgent denial |
