In this house,
I have passed many years
anticipating your arrival
Multitude pretenders have knocked my door.
Some use wry words, wrung dry of truth
exposed over time as quicksand,
escaped not by anxious exertions,
but pulled through clarity’s patient attention
Others misled with experienced touch,
pressing hidden buttons,
eliciting instinctual moans and
whispers of undying affection
until the batteries burned out
overused, deadening response
Now you are here, my newest visitor,
wandering the corridors of my mind,
leaving footprints pressed into the carpet
of my plush imagination.
You turn knobs, peek into rooms,
finger the light switch,
peruse and withdraw.
But your shadow clings perceptions’ walls,
demanding your return.
Perhaps you are the one.
The familiar my soul has whispered of
on quiet nights in an empty bed..
Sooth to a hungry, vacant soul
in quest of spiritual coupling
and everlasting Eros.
Are you the dawn
to break my desolation?
Reincarnation’s kiss to greet my lips
fill my lungs, sing my life
until a final exhale.
Or an empty depression,
I wake to find
once more upon me,
guiding me inside.
It matters not.
I must make due.
Few visit this house anymore.