Once (Of Substance) Poem by Butch Decatoria

Excitedly I say once,
"if love was a substance,
if only more than
some sort of word, more concrete
if only"
rather than heard
in song made wispy or absurd
instead bold in your face apparent
a freak-show, cirque du taste
such theatrics (once) those lips
the film noir of your thrilling face.

Undeniable you
unabashed like a growth
to the left
a mole on your kind skin
red lipstick puckering miss Monroe
eyes that ooze dreamy

How I always noticed you, once
saying "Ooh look here, this is love"
pointing to that dot,
but i know love is more than
a tiny tiny blemish
(or Marilyn's coy mole) .

Once, I recall
a beauty marked me
with what was quick-draw
and newly raw
touch with much whirling
such were we
openly exposed to...

Effulgent: Love making

All things of wealth
Of flesh imbue,
matters less now
than those ugly truths...
our golden glow not many know
what all we felt
suns, dawns, and woes

So wretchedly, loudly
made so obvious / where we partook
(Old denning of youths)
briefly donning heaven in our looks
hold on
to my arms - keep hold,

i say to what was once,
love now as heavy as you're letting go
caustic as your doubts

i remember saying
"look here -once, this was love"
now just a gesture
where stands my shadow

as I regret
not informing you: "should of kept your eyes open
during the fall
should of kept honest is all..."

If only love to you
was of some real substance
beyond misty hours or
something like
the prose of rain to heartache
empty like open doorways of us before
because
once is now
no more.