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The Same Lovely Misery

Poetry is not my friend,
It is only sad images of disappointment,
A desolate history
I don’t want to believe.

But still, I have more tears
For a lingering obsession
That has already left
A thousand handkerchiefs wet
With prayers and regrets.

Through scattered verse,
I have called you perfect
And invited the world
To fall in love with you.

I have tried to describe
Your shimmering brown hair
Caressing your Goddess-like shoulders,
A mythical tall girl
Towering in my dreams.

I have swum in the tranquil pools
Of your seductively sad eyes,
And I have not lied
About what they did to me,
I was spellbound and mesmerized.

You inspired a desperate search
For poetic words;
I wanted lines of thought and rhyme
To offer sacrificial compliments
At the altar of the beautiful one
Swirling through my imagination.

You breathe in my poetry
Like a Mediterranean breeze,
I cried and called you Aphrodite,
Now I’m certain that you’re Daphne,
Forever running away from me.

Other women are minutely alive in memories,
Vague footnotes to my poetry,
I can’t remember what they mean to me,
I’m not sure they exist,
But you remain, even in the silence
Of the long months of disappearance.

I hope the man holding your hand
Comprehends what he is doing,

[...] Read more

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