You’re wondering maybe, what it is that I see, what it is that you want. You’re hoping the spell that you’re under is what flows through my veins. Your complacency is my dignity, your lust my vanity, your bright eyes are what you want to see in mine. And only this you hold in the night. Thirsting for more, your grip is tight.

I recall that once you were enthralled to savor another’s skin another time. Another place from which she walked away. Or maybe it was you. Maybe she withered, in regret, too. Maybe the smiling sun shuddered when it fell on the touching skin of the two of you. At any rate, any hand is better than the last. You shuffle, deal, and fold so fast. Daddy needs new shoes again. Just one more time, really.

Yes, we’ve walked through the rainfall, and shot at rubies in the dark. But rainbows withdraw and the gems have flaws so blind to the eye of the beholder. You’re forgetting why you came, I’m smiling over you. So far, so good. So unfulfilled when you’re in the mood. finding my smile, touching my face. I pull away.

Is this enough? Is it ever what you want? Have I been all that you’ve dreamt? You’re slipping: one, two, under, and I can’t rescue you this time, darling. You know, you’re out of my reach too. All that’s left of you is a distant cry in the retreating past, an echo in the underpass. We hang on by our nails, pounded in beyond question or reason. Lost recognition. Lost dream.

Will you be here forever? Will you ever set her free? This goddess you created long ago, that you once decided was me? You’re searching again, forgetting mistakes. Hope is the name of this hypocritical game. The laughing man falls short to see that what you’ve wished for was never me,but a loss of ever being truly satisfied. For what would you reach then?

copyright 1997 Cheyenne Sebren