Lost love

I finally met MY love at fifty-five years, all before had been imitation. She was a millionaire, I wasn’t and she didn’t care. We never had an awkward silence, we shared books and words by the thousand. 


Lost love.

 

From my sleep

I saw a vision

In the strangest

Damned position.

A bad condition.

 

Damned by sleeping tears

And subconscious fears

I slept through the pain

In silence and cold rain.

The tears turned to blood.

 

I awoke stuck with tears

I glanced baby across at you.

your sensuality and lovemaking

our talking and risk taking

I loved you in holy ways

You moved my mind 

In many ways.

 

You look like Joan Baez

Your mind was mighty

I loved all of you

that soft Glaswegian accent

But you could see

Into my mind.

 

The breaks and blood

Like silent flood.

I thought I had you fooled

As I lived my liars life

My brain slashed by natures knife.

 

Spurred on by poisons texts

From someone who I called friend

Her brimstone fingers

ended us.

My secret insanity

Was laid bare by doubt.

 

But you saw within

And so begin

The plotting of the end

You wanted to call me friend.

It couldn’t be.

 

But my love was too deep

To carry that and keep

And we had to say goodbye

You were my love, apple in my eye.

and always will be.

 

I still have the coat and gloves

Given with love

On that one holy Christmas.

I can’t throw them away

And I can’t wear them

They have me by the legs.

 

We’d stand and wait for a convenient bus

Under the lights, their sodium glare.

Do you remember how we’d huddle

A loving, caring sharing pair.

Ripped apart I felt despair.

I never know if you care.

 

A lost love is no flying dove

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© Mentalelf 2021
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