J as Jesus

I want her here, or me there. I don't care which,
But we have to be together. I have had enough
Of dragging my feet dully down and up the stairs
Without her, sad and lonely as a miner in a tunnel
Without light. I want to hear the voice I can't recall,
So shrill and filled with soothing humor, and I want
Her hand to rest upon my forehead, not to cool
The fever, which has broken, but to warm my
Frigid flesh. Oh, J, as Jesus, raise your lover,
Who believes that he has died, and I, in turn, will,
What? Console you, though you don't seem
Very sad? The truth is that she has a life apart
From mine, but I become a mote when she's away
From me. I want her here. I want me there.
I feel myself diminishing with every hour I can't
See her. If she sees some good in me, she'd better
Bring me close, or I am apt to disappear.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 73 times
Written on 2019-01-20 at 10:23

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