Dona Michelini <dona.michelini@gmail.com>
Sun, May 19, 2013, 12:19 PM
Lost Ardor
There will be no consolation for the years that come undone
I imagine the pain and suffering that has to be shut out.
I see the story of lives and I know the story of my own
Lost truths given expression amongst shame.
Story after Story, some fun, some not; we walk together.
Do we practice a game without rules?
I had no idea when instinct met instinct
That we’d be hearing yelling
The screams shut and lost behind doors
He’s talking to no one only himself.
Are these the words and actions;
He never got to do or say?
Now I have to be detached to my love.
I only imagine what it would be like for you.
Expressing my honest truth
To imagine your honest truth
Instead I grow silent for the joy that isn’t mine
I will postpone
I can see you in my mind
I feel you hold every careful touch
I am growing old in front of you
In front of my mirror
I want to bring you youth; most of all I want it for myself.
What life gives me I barely know?
Struggling with dedication, my tears must be pushed away.
I hear yelling existing in the neighbor
Seeing others taut in duties, drives of youthful lust
We are too intellectual.
I’m here as the night’s breeze sends currents through my open door.
Will we laugh again?
