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