if given the chance to pinch time in the moment we first became known to one another,
id hold it for a minute or two
to partake in deep contemplation.
quite frankly, im no longer afraid to admit this progression was too rapid.
i was sluggish in this first attempt.
but if i were able to deliver you a better song than this petty cry,
id create the most enchanting of chords.
youd weep at the crescendo.
if our love were this song,
the notes would be diminished.
no words
for none are truly needed.
or maybe id make it a sonnet
14 lines of "a las" and "o my luve"
maybe id let the lines marinate in scottish seas
or sink to the bottoms of english rivers
as in some way of preserving its sacrality.
what would shakespeare write of our alluring tragedy?
would he snap his pen in frustration?
can nothing make sense of our love?
or would he scribble visions of dire beauty
in manic mania?
or maybe he'd refuse to manipulate our experience in any way-
thinking its best we dont become swayed in outside opinion and public belief-
of what is, what was, and whats to be.
maybe if i let go of the urge to do so,
id be less anxious
about creating the perfect romance
and master what we've made
no matter how deformed.
YOU ARE READING
when power turned to sunlight
Poetry"the way i've been beguiled by you is something no tender tale has never known..." a collection of idle thoughts and temporary feelings [an active and ongoing project ] [cover: once wed on Pinterest] highest ranks #37 living #73 poembook #24 work in...
