by Bianquita

Created on: October 06, 2008

Words

When my eagerness to express my Soul
becomes unbearable,
I fashion my mind into a net
and run with it, enchanted by the magic sounds I know are possible.

Then, imagining perfection,
I catch some brightly colored words,
like a child catches butterflies,

But oh, my poor brain!
Full of blood and neurons,
cumbersome and heavy with the dictates
of irksome lizards
and jealous apes.

How inadequate it feels
when I play the game
of word catching!
Like trying to fashion fine jewelry
with only a hammer.

Poor, clumsy me!
Wanting to give you those sparkling sounds I catch,
and only succeeding at babbling the monotony of my fears,
or shouting the imperatives of my impulses!

Won't you have mercy
for the reptile in me
who cannot subdue
its stubborn desire to gaze upon you?

And won't you look kindly
upon the primitive passions
fashioned by my ancient mothers' untamed lust,
awakened inside me
by the truffle like scent
of your male body?

Won't you forgive me
for being human,
and knowing about death,
while longing for immortality,
and still being able to cry
tears of tenderness
every time I remember
the quivering neurons
where I fiercely guard
the memory of your skin?

Won't you please trust me,
just once,
before we disappear,
when I tell you that there are words,
somewhere in space,
floating in timeless bliss,
words that can heal every wound,
words that can end separation,
words that broadcast ecstasy
in every direction,
forever?

Oh Darling! I no longer claim
to own you,
as my flesh insists that I should.
I am simply listening
to some curious little words
that tell me
we've never been apart.

Learn more about this author, Bianquita.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.