Loneliness

Who can ignore the therapeutic
Value of a pair of intentful hands?
Why can't I just close my eyes, lay back
and be mystified while you
touch me on white sands...

Or why can't the pitter-patter
Of thunderstorming cause urgencies
Of you whispering how it's wet
outside, and you're thinking of
having me dripping...

I want to know a name
that is straight up synonymous
with exactness of a kiss
while my yearn for you
becomes a habit

See in all actuality the sensuality
of the principality of a delicate touch
is not in fact, asking too much

See for me the noise of silence
is an act of violence, I want to
hear your voice and make some noise
I may be lonely but not bitter
I long for a companion that makes my soul quiver

Or maybe
I was meant to be lonely
Because once I heard a story
And in the story when the poet struggles
and feels constant pain,
Her poems were nothing less than beauty
Yet, when she was happy
The power of her poems just weren't the same...

Is this loneliness now my certain fate?

© 1999 Broken Wings Publishing