Loveless Poem by Marcel Naranjo

Asia, Sasha and Tasha,
Each flawed, yet mysteriously imperfect, cohesive selves.
Superb temptresses if you ever perchance to lay witness.
Charisma surrounds them; striking a pose that demolished each cold, autumn, wind- stormed morning with a slight hip pivot, clever hair-toss and a bubbly, yet dignified, come-hither nod: eyelashes selling the case to heart.
Classic flirts indeed!
Roll through the fall calendar and you’ll find them brightening the dreariest of Tuesdays of which most men would have to hold a near-fatal caffeine intake to stick.

I made my rounds across campus.
Classes: focused,
Tests: tackled.
Regarding presentations, I couldn’t take my damn eyes off of them.
I’m beguiled to a single audience in three rooms.
I revel in my own powerlessness.
The work was static; I sought solely the approval of these sirens.
Because each day, I receive a surprise in how much the three infatuate me.
Smothering myself in their lives allows me the instance to watch the moving gallery they present.
I savored their company over soup, coffee, even ice cream, but never could recompense my own reflections. I knew ugly truths, ignored those mixed with rumor, and read between every morsel of life they dispensed..
I feared my judgments would be contaminated by my own foolish prospects,
starting them away.

Sasha, your lover is about town in a rival girl’s hand. That blond was the same girl you presented hugging you in your yearbook. You may never trust anyone again.
Tasha, the ring he betrothed binds you to him, not you together. Seems so simple, but try and word it to the lust-ridden.
Asia: with the spiritual agility of a hummingbird, no doubt. I reap only silence amidst you.
She floats carelessly. She, like I, falls loveless, but may lure me to vulnerability.
I’ve never so many words to explain sole desire to kiss someone in such ecstatic embrace!
Though I digressed, not to mention mightily failing my well prepared presentation.

Friday bore the last chance to make this ugly cold winter into a bountiful spring. I shower, shave, and almost kill a bicyclist heading to my proverbial psychosexual labyrinth.
Sasha sat curled above a darkened stairwell, evidently broken hearted: mascara running. Capable of speaking, through sniffling, she wove fragments of deceit, but tears still fell.
Infidelity is merciless. I will remain her crying shoulder.
Tasha: gone baby, vanished; disappeared, out of sight. The honeymoon began early, I suppose? Her fiancé promised her Paris. I never met the man, but he had better stop in his tracks each day and observe how elegant it is to simply watch her transform the most mundane task into a picturesque scene. It’s hypocritical to have loathed their fear of loneliness.
Coast across the Seine, faire one.

And Asia,
Lively Asia,
Her enigma is a lesson.
Catch, if you can, that butterfly in a jar and admire her colors.
When she stops fluttering,
Let her go.
Allow another such an opportunity.
Soon it will snow. And no doubt somebody else will try and save her from the ensuing blizzard.

I promised her a sundae in celebration of semesters’ end with the arrival of Christmas.
Solemn but anxiously, I stood patient in the breeze awaiting my date
At her request, we sat outside.
The weather never did bother her.
She raised that magnificently sculpted smile to black clouds. Breaking silence, she deemed, in that ever-upbeat tone,
“I think it might snow this year! ”
I didn’t look to the disappearing crowd. The misguided scurrying en masse directly opposed my eyes.
I was succinctly tuned to every last movement I would ever take in from her.
In heavy exhale, I saw my breath, announcing
“It already is”.


© Eight Headed Dragon LLC.
MMVII