To the fiery dreams of youth which speak in rhymes and riddles posed.
I love you.
But a repetition of a lie is no more needed than words upon this page.
& I cry for you.
You speak to me in lines of silence & in that I hear no more than the destiny of truth.
Your smile provokes me.
Could you ever be more than a fantasy spread upon my broken mind?
I want you.
I kiss you, but our lips of fire never touch or pass. Restraint is poison for me.
I watch you walk.
& I see this heart of mine ache in foolish age for the bride I desire to leave.
& I watch you walk.
I give up. Though I am mesmerized by my addiction to you. A phallic suggestion in the cold moments of night.
I want to talk with you.
But I find the distance between us is great and stolen; I cannot reach through the dark for you.
I scream to you.
Final wishes trickle in warm blood for you and I find myself shaking with fear.
I’m losing you.
& thus the terror takes over, consumes and pulls me down, rapes my mind.
I’m in love with you.
~ the ending was always too close.
© Ed Simkins 2015