Despite your impatience,
regardless of your blind spots,
undeterred by your will to power,
even though you misread
my motivations,
my intentions,
my openheartedness,
I continue to love you.
What choice do I have?
I do not remain unaffected,
only whimsically philosophical.
Despite your objectivity,
your silence spoke to me.
Many things did it reveal.
Perhaps you hoped
it would annihilate,
remove any trace,
erase my earnest face,
cancel and delete me.
Instead I heard your fear,
your dread at being read
like a thread that led
us back here. See?
I've not remained immune,
exposed as I am to denial.
Despite an assertion
you'd never receive me,
in a weak moment, you did do,
remember? You gave me a gift,
unintentionally mended a rift
between what my heart
and mind knew
only too well.
Only too well
you adamantly reject
what stares you down
each single morning
as you fleetingly
reflect.
I've not remained true.
Despite knowing another,
I love you.
YOU ARE READING
Out of this Earth
PoetryMusings on the luminous sometimes whimsical world of human love: Bring your heart to the Garden for a feast of Earthly delights but come prepared for unexpected twists and dark turns along the way.
