Thursday, January 17, 2013

Illicit Romanic Encounter


Meet me outside clandestinely
Kiss me passionately
No one else has to know
I promise not to tell
Agree to meet at Starbucks on
Second Avenue at 80th Street
where hopefully, no one knows us.
I reckon you’ll be late but you
beckon me from the corner
On rare occasions when we meet and you think
no one else sees, you pull me to you fiercely
Playfully and forcefully, always by surprise
Press your lips down hard push
your tongue between my lips
enter without consent
Your hand holds my neck firmly,
your other hand applies pressure to my face
Suddenly, like an unexpected summer storm
Flashes of lightning and downpour on a sunny day,
quickly disappears, the sun
brighter than before the storm
you’re gone in less than ten seconds
Maybe when we’re 80 we can finally get together
again you’ll whisper sweet nothings, stare in my eyes
but then you won’t turn and leave me
We’ll have a few years together before I die
I can always dream
Maybe I'll be a size four when I'm eighty
Then you'll want me forever
You like little slim girls
Not a big girl like me size eleven or twelve
I want to be smaller but that’s not what it is
You just like her more than me she’s trimmer has more muscle
She is artistic just like me
Besides you love her, not me
So why do you insist every time we meet
When I least expect it you act like you’re only being friendly
Suddenly you grab me and my dreams are reawakened
in an unbridled sunrise explosion
Maybe when I’m eighty you'll finally be all alone
Maybe then it will be different

2 comments:

  1. Joy,
    A bitter-sweet paean to hopless dreams.
    If you meant to elicit sadness, you received it from me.
    Did you pick the number 80 or did it pick you?
    I tend to look for archetypal symbolism.
    The only thing that comes to mind is that the Bible says that 80 years is the lifetime of man.
    Enjoyed the poem.

    Michael Bailey
    mbailey927@gmail.com

    ReplyDelete
  2. Joy,
    A bitter-sweet paean to hopeless dreams.
    If you meant to elicit sadness, you received it from me.
    Did you pick the number 80 or did it pick you?
    I tend to look for archetypal symbolism.
    The only thing that comes to mind is that the Bible says that 80 years is the lifetime of man.
    Enjoyed the poem.

    Michael Bailey
    mbailey927@gmail.com

    ReplyDelete