Lover Not Friend - Poem by Brenda Warman
Your grasp was immediate, not physical, not conscious,
My heart sighed,
Your beauty so profound, so captivating,
Awash in the luminous yellow street light,
To have you for my own was my one wish.
Time has its way of changing what was seen,
A memory, lackluster, empty of the liveliness it once cultivated.
I see you, but it is not you, not entirely,
Not the one I had supposed was behind those dark, honest, eyes.
Your sex, like a potent drug, erasing all woes,
relieving all symptoms at a moment's touch,
The grief, the anger, the unreciprocated emotion,
Washes away like the rain to the air, cleansing, purifying.
I am whole in your presence.
When I look up, you are gone, vanished,
Dissolved into the air, floating out of reach,
Farther and farther the rift extends between.
Leaving me with what, but dissatisfaction,
And hope disintegrated.
You seem to understand on the mundane level,
But what becomes of these feelings that only I hold?
It leaves me parched, thirsting, dying with no natural cause,
But love impaired, love unrequited.
The pain strikes like the blade of the scalpel,
Across the heart, mangling, tearing, spurting affection.
I am somehow unworthy, I have gone mad with feelings,
That cannot or will not be returned.
I yearn for the kiss that is out of more than pleasure,
More than fulfilling primal desires.
It seems that I am in too deep to withdraw, to stifle myself completely,
A dismissal of you results only in withdrawal,
I shake and tremble, waking slumber, tear after tear,
Escapes my lonely eyes.
I submit, albeit unwillingly, to the caress of your voice,
The vision of your dark complexion,
My hand in yours as you guide and protect.
I have given you all that I have,
Raked up the dust and left them to your disposal.
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Brenda Warman's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye