When I Think Of You

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An attempt to cast out fond memories of a past love

When I think of You

When I think of you
I will remember;
The harsh, judgemental words
and final ruling
That erupted out of
The mouth
I once
Longed for

When I think of you
I will recall;
The way you pushed
And pullled me
Back
under your spell
Just
To cast
me out,
eventually,
At
A time,
I needed
you
most

When I think of you
I will attempt
not to remember;
The adorable dimple
That accompanied
A smile
Or
The sweet taste and splender
Of your lips
Pressed against mine

When I think of you
I must try
Not to recall,
The way you bit the side of your cheek
Or
How you placed your hand under your chin,
Like
The Thinking Man

When I think of you
I will;
Keep at bay,
The memory of
The gift,
Of old, tattered images
Shared
of a young boy
whose
developement
Into
A
Handsome man
Was captured
In its stages

When I think of you,
I will try
To remember;
only,
The sorrow that filled my spirit
When you silenced
The life voice
Between us
Not allowing
one last breath
for good-bye

When I think of you,
I will be mindful
To recall;
How I vow
Rarely
To think of you
And the spell that held me
Paralized.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Four Reasons

One possibility . . .
Creeps into my rational
That the sight of me
Pulls up vomit
From
Your soul

Another possibility . . .
That there
Is
In fact
Another.
One
more prettier,
Younger,
Intellegent
Than I,
That
Now takes up my place

Or, could it be . . .
That maybe
Just maybe,
You
Are valient
And noble
Taking the road
That only
You
Had strength
Enough
To travel

Finally . . .
Maybe,
what transpired between us
Might have been merely
A figment
Of my imagination
And never
to have
Existed
At all

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Responsibility

I lay
So gently
Down
On the warm pavement
And feel the heat from the summer sun
Soak into me

I look up
into a sky
That
Is moving
in one directon
Full of streams of white clouds
That look like heavenly angels

I try
to quiet my mind
And listen
To the song of the cardinal
As it calls to its mate

But the only hymn
That I hear
Is one that
Cries out,
“Pain,
was inflicted,
and you,
my dear,
are the one
who wielded
it.”

I allow
M y hand
To hang
Over
The pool’s edge
And feel
The coolness
Tingle
My fingertips

At that moment
I exhale
A deep sigh
As a tear sneaks
Out and finds gravity
Taking it
Along
The curve of my cheek

It is then,
I speak,
Loud enough
And with such verve
That the cardinal’s
Melody
Is interrupted
And Maybe,
Even,
Vocal enough,
For
The neighbors
To hear my utterence
Of confession

Certainly with
Enough volume
That
The clouds,
can grasp hold of them
and carry the voice of heartache along. . .

“I loved him deeply,
My spirit mourns
From the loss of his presence
In my life
And
I will not forget
The pain
That shown in his eyes
More often
Than not
And for that
my heart breaks . . .
For I
Know,
Without a doubt,
I was the source
of such sorrow.”

With a near whisper
“I am deeply sorry!”
finds a ride within
the following cloud

And I rise
From my place
Of momentary solitude


It is then
I feel a downpour
Of tears
Flowing
Out from
The heart
For I realize,
That,
my
seeking,
To taste
a love
I had
So longed for,
Was,
But
A
skyfull of selfishness

 

flee from

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