I Hope Marjorie Knows It Has Been Diluted Poem by Raj Dronamraju

I hope that Marjorie trusts me more than she trusts time
And does not listen to the words of deceit whispered by absence

And that passion full forward in bubbling beakers and steamtrap sensuality
Will be distilled into bottles of quiet frustrated agony, missed connections, and miserly kisses delivered on the cheek

I hope that Marjorie lives somewhere where the hunger of the soul is drawn out like a lion from a cage but without the chair or the whip

And the one time she was more than friends with someone in the office
Long late night conversations laced with cyanide

Either the magic is gone or fatally weighed down by life and love's wearisome expectations