Dark Poetry Prose Poetry March 8, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

3-08-03 saturday 8pm brick NJ

it's what i once knew,
but had forgotten -
that it's so much easier
to love someone
you can't really have;

it's what i've always known about us,
that love resides somewhere in
the spaces we keep between,
and we must retain those spaces
so that it has room to breathe;

that it's just as real as any,
but very different;
rather than a promise
it is a faith,
rather than a union,
it's a meeting place;

i feel it before,
during and after,
from the first kiss
through the pleasures
and afterward when
we lay there caressing,
the inherent tenderness
in your presense,
the genuine care in
every touch you place,
maybe it's love, maybe it isn't,
or maybe it's simply our own version of.

03-08-03 saturday 9:40pm brick NJ

can i say it without much ado?
could it make it passed the confines
of the worlds we choose?

i want you to know,
i always have -
i don't want a ring,
i don't what a lifetime
that you're not willing to give;

i want to take what you want
and what i do and find a way
that they can agree,
i want to feel your touch
more than twice year,
just because it feels so good,
i don't know what it is for you,
but i don't think it's just the sex,
i feel it afterward - trapped in
that contented silence
there's a refuse for these
weary minds, there's a haven
from these frazzled lives.

i write to much, you must think,
and i don't protest it,
i think more than i need to and
it only lead to questions
i wouldn't want answred,
but we are and have always been,
since that first night and this last one,
the same two people who manage to find
something in the other that brightens
the darkers corners of our own lives.

i don't want to be verbose, but
it alwaus turn out that way,
i don't want to say what is or
what i think should be,
i just want to know that as much as it means,
it means just as much to you.

i don't want to go all poetic and
write the things that i usually regret,
but it's a bad habit, this thing that i do,
words capture my life the moments
when it runs away from me,
words find myself again during the
phasese when i get lost,

oh to be as normal as you are,
to be orindary rather than,
would you, could you really love me then,
or would it never be possible?
love me as a friend if that's all that you can
and i'll never forsake it, but i'll always wonder
what, what about me couldn've been different,
what if anything could've made you really want me
like i do you.