Do I love you?

Do I love you?

God it's quiet here. Peaceful even…

The wind blowing the clouds.
Not a thing of men: music, speech, activity
Ah but for the plane!

The plane that carries men
To their destinations
Men's destinies

Choice

We choose
So important in this world
Where nature

Nature is first
Choice is intent
Choice belongs to men

I choose you
But was it choice??
To love you.

The plane is gone
Cars whisper in the distance
It's quiet because I'm alone

The clock tocking
On the wall
Counting our march onward

To death

What is silence?
Absence of man?
Death?

Death chooses us
I did not choose to die
What is choice?

What is love?
A manmade construct
That exists only with man?

Do I love you?
Only if I choose to

And, my choice? My destiny?
Is… breath

Spoiled For You

Spoiled For You

What did you do?
I’m spoiled for you…
My body will only respond
to memories of your touch.
And you left.

I look for you in others.
The look in your eye
the look of your skin
the feel of your chest:
shoulders, waist, ass.
When my eyes were closed.

It has led me down dark
paths.
Many who would readily take
if I gave.

I want you,
You want her,
She wants –
Who knows?
Do you?

Dilemma?

Is this the nature of it?
To want what we can’t have?
If that’s the case,
How is there ever fulfillment?

Why couldn’t you wait?
You knew me…
And your selfishness won.

Dodge a bullet? Or,
lose some twisted form
of Russian Roullette?If there is an answer,
time grasps it in my stead.

Your poetry has turned prose,
My prose to poetry.
Can’t you see how much
The brief time altered us?

“Why are love poems cheesy?”
You asked.
I answered:

“Because in writing,
love is twisted.
Love doesn’t have the richness
it has in life.
In life it turns to something else –
in writing it stays the same.
Love exists in conflict.”

It’s the pining,
yearning for something
that’s lost,
Not there any longer –
In that you will find
oodles of cheesiness.

As this for you is.
As what you wrote for her
is not.
Rather it was your anger.
Anger with her,
Anger with yourself.
Go light up or have a drink.
I think that is all that can
curb your anger.
Don’t be angry with me.

I try to remember the good
In you.
It was there.
It is there.
I write the story that you changed
I write the story that you revealed

You are hidden from me now as
I try to move on.

Despite the stories…
Stubbornly, I will look on you
the same
as I always have.
Admiration.
Respect.
Friend.

Mental,
Emotional,
Physical
Match…

The look in your eye
Changed.
You used to admire
Now there is nothing
The same blankness like
the first time we met.

I’m a stranger again.
I had a chance.
You had a chance.
We had a chance
Once.

Do we only get one chance?