Intense But Undefined

You're a practical woman, Charlotte. No one ever
Has said I'm a practical man, but we both can agree,
I believe, that it's better for us to steer clear of such
Frightening terms as “love” and “devotion” as we
Make our way from the paths in the park and our
Meals by the lake to the shop windows downtown,
And here to my bed. Let us leave our condition
Alive and unnamed. I am desperate without you.
Are you, without me? When you leave in the morning,
I feel that the dishes you've used are like artifacts,
Not to be cleaned. When you kiss me goodbye,
You extract my soul, leaving only my shell
To persist through the day. As I pass your
Workplace to go buy more groceries,
A powerful force seems to try to pull me. If I
Let it and came to you, what would you do,
Shout my name and come kiss me, or turn away,
Turning red, telling those in the cubicles all around
Yours that I'm such an impractical man?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 61 times
Written on 2020-02-11 at 21:52

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