the whole world didn’t have to know

My devotion came from a long time ago, like when we were young ‘uns, kids. There were perpetual feelings for you cause’ few wanted to be your friend while me and sister, well- we always picked up strays so I loved you like baby… brother but then we raised and it seemed one of us was not much older than the other- anymore. Appeared I began representative of someone whom required tenderizing and currying. It felt appropriate grabbing hold of curtains to drape them across the body, the way you focused; vexed with the physical, sent with notes of adoration and courtship- had to realize things had changed. Though close, it occurred to me to give in but not before a few conditions… friend.

After being sprinkled, additional seasoning from your intentions I said, “Yes but “shhhhhh” let’s not tell one iota soul, this arrangement remains between I and you until we know of what “this” between us proves.” We dropped lines and the next day lo’ the public was there to greet me, with invitations and congratulations, salutations, decorated colloquies. I’m saying, “No, I don’t need a party, a caterer for near future and there you stood beside me grasping hands, calm as the still. My eyes are big at you with wonder and questions (What happened black!!!) but the chatter went intensely consistent continuing to reveal lack of discretion. What’s sobering is we were over before we started, from there toward an exit of 30 days, door of our departure. Attempted warning you from the outset bejeweled, former friend, the world didn’t have to know of ardor within…before we even knew.

security for the half (of two)

expressfully you don’t regard the name Shirley

incidentally, I am far from one so infamous

prefer to derive my queue for a companion from another heaven’s source

not other peoples porches and do take a plethora of notes

use as quote for the next caravan of notions

devoted to implications and suspicions without proof

taken to indignations and rants…

not the sort bending toward desperation

thirsting for someone else’s gentlemen’s suit

there’ll be blue today

as I woke up pining

the things in this room that need painting

addressing colors of a hint of transparency and explanation

as I walk into an extension of lodging there is sighing

what about that window peering back at me

with scenery of complacency

things tardy not at my mandate

it was of the impression I am Napoleon here but then

I shake the slumber from reasoning

remembering myself further from first than appearing

and here I stand in my rain argentine

moon loving beat

I’m moving through semi crowd

stretching my neck above a dozen fluorescent heads

your theme music playing black and blues with thumping zeal

surrounded I become with emotion that have abandoned their places

mixing generation with ear rapture abounding

the back of my neck is sensitive as a geese family on a journey

and I figure he must be somewhere tight

I keep floating aiming to steady the controls

I’ll be jumping crescents soon…you know how I love my moon

yes, moon delivering me

crazy…I favor midnight affairs

even if it isn’t mine

I love someone else’s love

but now it is the moon

reaching into my pockets

tugs away at skirt linings

without interfering with flair

for the eclectic and doesn’t breath

impressed by singleness thus far

and oh yes preservation

see’s with passionate ripples

and now…well the moon

you know how I love my moon

is reaching for me

moon reaching for me

rotating like itunes on a good evening

nah sistah love as this is the stance

of fighting ignorance naievete’ desperation

no longer writhing in desolation

It’s gone be said in as many syllables

as can be said

breaking it down as only I can take it

contemplating over shapes of pale circle

awe of colossal roundness bathed in light

wrapped in bliss of navy deep

bragging lauding you know how it does

and you know how I love…

love a big jovial laughing star

moon that at last suspends there…

and not so far from me anymore

yessss misses sister…my turn

my moon reaches for me

Romantic matter

Shirlena:

I just wanted one of your lovely writes on my page for everyone to see :)

Originally posted on Wuji Seshat Nibada:

78

To wait for soul mates is a paradox
why not create them, from
the art of communication?
or from resolve of commitment?

that which takes a lifetime to perfect
until we say so easily

“tell me dearest one, how can
you have reached so far
inside my heart?”

what if you find your soul mate
at the wrong time, is it then
bad timing or will you let
life teach you the lessons of love?

with grace and tenderness
the amazement of friendship
the sanctuary of romance
are beautiful at any age

do we make space for them?
I’ll be lucky if I know how

to create space for intimacy in my life
adversity might bring me closer
to you, my ever loveliest companion

so I shall not despair, when I am
alone, you are nearest
when I am busy, will you wait for me?

You who make me feel…

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