Sometimes I doubt
If you ever existed.
The perfected portrait
So crookedly hung yet
Prominently positioned,
With pride of place
In my memory’s gallery
Now undergoing
Further renovations.
Constantly bleached
All the impurities
Swept up and away
Yet it all is just
An ideal revision
After all what did
I ever mean to you?
And what did you
Ever mean to me?
A momentary pause
Afternoon delight
A brief holiday
From responsibility
In between times
Decided ambiguity
Immediate recognition
You were unique
I was enigmatic
The germ of genius
Residing within
Where slyly perverse
Inclinations strange
And/or unobtainable
Occasionally hinted at,
Accurately guessed.
You liked me for
My wide coppery eyes
And smooth skin.
I loved you for
Your elfin build
And slow Sapphic kisses
Together united
We should have completed
But all we managed
Was to botch
Our romance
Allowed the affair
To fade and fail
You could afford
To forget:
You had time
Other erotics awaited,
But I could never
Forgive the fact
That I was used up,
With my love wasted.


45 thoughts on “Spent

      1. My pleasure. I enjoy your poetry even more than discussions of surrealism. I suspect my followers feel the same about my poetry vs my art. But, more importantly, isn’t it wonderful to have a love relationship??!!

        Liked by 1 person

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