Wednesday, November 2

Surrendering

Surrendering


it could have happened anywhere
maybe perhaps even on
a busy crowded
downtown street
while on a corner
waiting for the
street lights to flash walk.
or perhaps in a quiet
bookstore separated
by a shelve of books
packed tightly on a
oak wood frame.
a likely potent
passing might
brew in a grocery store line,
waiting behind
the woman counting
out two dollars
worth, of pennies,
for two soda's
one hers, the other
for a small grandson,
both just wanting to
share a moment together.
or the chance of a
possible proximity
of back turn towards back
in a little coffee shop,
sipping frappuccinos
simultaneously browsing
the new yorker or
wall street journal
might have been the
scene for the plot.
a stare could employ
overlapped lives,
as a smile proposes
gesture of marriage.
formal meetings
come coincidental,
familiarity eases eyes.
inverted awareness
brings buried,
yet unintentional
supple soul kisses,
seize equivalent
accidental touches.
conversations
begin to take shape,
fighting against the
body's solitary,
my heart is a dictatorship,
so selfish
when it comes to
sharing my soul,
I prefer to have myself,
single in a shelter shell,
all to my own.
while,
you’re so militant,
always fighting
against heart's
lonely happiness
ignoring the single man's
worry free baggage less
contentment.
it could have happen anywhere,
during movies, sporting events
club scenes, concerts,
such tight spaces where
people seem to
become jammed packed.
amalgamated, melted pots
of large groups.
of course throughout the world,
we'd share
numerous fate bending encounters,
of course we both knew,
one day,
orbital roads would cross paths,
so suddenly we clashed.
purposely pretending you didn't
mean to mindlessly
bump into my agenda.
caught up in your beauty,
it should only be natural that,
only you could
knock me off my feet.
needing balance, your strong
shoulders I'd grasp
to keep
from falling behind,
pushing to stay afloat
inside a busy line.
you counteract,
offer a friendly hand,
touch the lower
part of my back,
produce comfort in
movement through a
crowded path.
these advances,
your eye's glances
plot ideals to conduct
uprising and definite
attitude towards solitude,
the will of our bodies
too close together
in breathless rooms,
aid the revolution,
fight against freedom
blossoms harvest and
the next movement.

1 comment:

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