The Tale of a baren wretch

this is about wanting a love that is never within reach, when words of one day or you deserve happiness are given. this is the tale of a decomposing wish fading to darkness.

I have not breeches of cotton, nor skirts of silk...
and yet I find that though void of material I am fallen...

So, I'll lay in bed beneath downy sheets imagining the sweets
and sighs that no longer linger by my neck...
gently curving upon my neck, and laying tender kisses upon now chapped lips...

I sigh...
your breath, and tender breast no longer warms my soul...

But, here I lay beneath white downy, pure and clean
a body void.
no cloth of cotton or silk shall caress my skin
as your gentle sins dance within my mind...

but, I grasp the breeches and skirts,

pondering who am I today.

was I ever...
or had you ever existed...

I want to kiss your cheek, not in dreams,
or somber reminiscences of adolescence.

But, tell me not what love makes sin,

but, answer the void,
with the soft touch of warm finger tips, and chaste kisses even...

Tell me not to endure for the future,
as I can clear see, as an old maid the thread loose upon a skirt,
that the minor details of now are much more...

important and real.

so, if only once allow me to abandon this downy bed,
to lay gentle kisses upon you,
and rushed sighs upon your neck...

for I cannot live without.

Author's Note

please ignore grammar, and punctuation.

Reviews

[Mark Mendoza]

Its Definitely pulling at the heart . Craving, a soul weeping and fighting for what it wants most . A Simple but beautiful love. Very well written . attacked my emotions

[ranscan]

A most satisfying pulling of the heart in this well crafted piece. The form is well fleshed, the steps of a more past than present dance, seem fresh and natural to the eye and ear.
It is more than the language, though that in itself is a marvelous melodious structure, it is the gentle nature of the telling, the slow unveiling of the details of the canvas, and in the end the full power of the vista beheld.

[songstress]

pardon me, for replying late and having such a simple response as wow. But, wow, I appreciate the response and simply reading your review-which was art in itself-was like stepping into a museum. thank you for sharing as you did and thank you for the wonderful trip that your review left.

[ranscan]

You are most welcome.

[m.s.early]

Even dreams, good dreams, the dreams you want the most can die without even a decent funeral. Love unrequited stings as much in any heart.

This poem is as elegant and enchanting as the subject is painful. Nonetheless, great write.