What A Woman Gave Me

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Tell me a story with your eyes.
Tell me a story with your eyes.
Tell me a story with your eyes.

Nice and Warm

Do you have a secret?

Living hidden

with a voice attached?

Saying what?, I wonder.

I have secrets too.

But tonight they will not be exhumed.

 

Can you not be beautiful or charming,

Can you not be bright?

I've left my stories in the car

with the cigarettes.

Can you live without them?

 

Just tell me stories with your eyes.

Can you see a story in mine?

 

Can we just listen to the music and look at one another

Can we feel a passing mood.

Feel it's soft embrace and flow...

flow somewhere...not far but different.

 

Nice and warm.

 

A place of quiet and calm.

Can we just sit here?

Hold hands,breathe and relax,

Can our lives be rearranged for such radical doings?

Are we so forgotten and diminished that no one cares any longer

what strange pleasures we seek together?

Stunted and blocked, is sitting close merely enough?

Or does this stillness lead to other paths?

 

Can you breathe away the things you want to tell me?

Could we send our minds away on a made-up errand?

Do you really need my thoughts?

My history seems false and boring to me

Could we do it another time?

 

Can we just like the other

without even trying to explain why

or even giving it a name?

Can't you feel the emotions in my face

without the sound of my voice guiding you?

Can we just hold hands like little children

just because it feels nice.

 

Nice and warm.

 

Can you see in my eyes why you can't impress me

and can you feel my own lack of understanding?

Why would we even need such things?

 

If no one else knows

and if we don't tell...

Then we could be safe in this silence.

Our two lives joined in this moment,

without vows or candles,

does it have to signify anything?

 

That you were alive and sat with another

so quietly that you fell below the flow of time

where the breath of the bodies sat swirling and

living between the two mouths.

Quiet, in a dark booth.

Would anyone else have to know

that we were warm?

 

Without games and jokes, goals or agendas

Life is almost death save for the scent of breath,

the tang of a living mouth.

And in such a state, if you feel the touch of another

you will not forget that

You will feel it in such a way...

On the quietest of nights you will hear its' call

And wonder.


Wonder.

 

Comments 6 comments

brandonfan profile image

brandonfan 6 years ago from Mid West

This one brought me to tears, I loved it, I'm a masochist after all.


Dark Heart profile image

Dark Heart 6 years ago Author

Thanks.I grew up in the Detroit area.You a Lions fan?

Now that's masochism.LOL


brandonfan profile image

brandonfan 6 years ago from Mid West

Haha!!! No kidding. You can only be a fan for so long before you realize that they're cursed, and will almost ALWAYS let you down! ; ) I grew up in Detroit also. 7 mile and Lahser!


Dark Heart profile image

Dark Heart 6 years ago Author

I was at 14 and Woodward.Next time I visit,let's write a poem together.


Denise Handlon profile image

Denise Handlon 6 years ago from North Carolina

Loved it! 'On the quietest of nights you will hear its call and wonder...Wonder.' Beautiful.

I grew up north of Detroit-undergrad at Marygrove College-McNicols


Dark Heart profile image

Dark Heart 6 years ago Author

Thank you so much Denise.Marygrove is cool.

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