i believe, i pray, i fly

[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]

and if i bring poems to her and she doesn’t understand
when i sing songs and she gets bored
if i offer a casual massage and she’s too busy
what then?

and if i ask and provide opportunities
when i wait and hold out hope
can i become addicted to longing
what then?

i know what missing you feels like
before we’ve even met
i can smell you, and feel your hair in my face
i know what i have lost

and if the shower after the day on the beach
and the cool dark unfamiliar room
rough and clean white sheets
the curtains billowing in the blow of the ac

and if my longing does not call you in
and my waiting proves fruitless again
i can still send out sirens songs
and use this desire as a sail

of course i hunger for her
and a near miss is a miss completely
and a word, a poem, a song, are precious
even without an ear to whisper into

in fibers deep in my soul i know
she is nearby, doing her thing
i am not finished with my baking
these ‘projects’ are just beginning

perhaps at this moment
she would be a distraction
and from afar she is muse, lover, mother
vixen, tease, goddess, everything

i know what longing feels like
i learned to do without even when she was next to me
i can thrive alone, in desirous creation
i don’t want to, but i do

sing along little bird
bring your bright feathers into my mouth
give flight to your fantasies as well
there is time, there is time, there is always time

hearts a flutter in beautiful presence
i am still becoming more loveable
my plan is drawing you in
even as I have failed to execute in the past

i can call, and write, and throw
poems and intentions and agendas at you
i can wait and be patient
to see if you will ignite

perhaps you are that one
that madonna that brings me to god, again
again, I am ready
i believe, i pray, i fly

i believe, i pray, i fly

6-19-13