she was like the
atmosphere of a thunderstorm
I easily slip between
the past and the present
the air was charged
so electric and warm
current rippled through
the fabric of mutual consent
we we had a long history
of helpless courage
blinded by lust and
afraid to move on
a windowless house
doors were dislodged
a porch where our most
intimate feelings were drawn
I wish I had the power
to shut down the wind
to move a mountain aside
or to start all over again
we couldn't close the door
we weren't sure was there
soft warm and still
it hung in the air
we knew we were moving
to the end of the line
life is too short not to
be foolish sometimes
but I just had a glance
into the river of romance
this much I can say
that I know how things were
and that I can't stay here
any longer without her
-
Author:
WL (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 12th, 2017 09:09
- Comment from author about the poem: Being Without her is like a house with no windows
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 73
- User favorite of this poem: Cranial Tapestry.
Offline)
Comments3
beautifully written!
brilliant portrayal of the situation.
absolutely love this!
Thanks much !
Great metaphor, sounds like it is not only windowless, but after you entered they also took away the door.
You do write very beautifully, WL.
Thanks Fred !
Very good emotion laden write, I do hope that the windows can be replaced.
That artwork is very good even if it is somewhat disturbing, but art should produce feelings in the viewer.
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