- Non-Erotic Poetry
- one morning, between spaces of time
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I miss the moment we will not have
one morning, between spaces of time
when only lovers exist. The moment when
my breath will tickle your neck,
when you will almost
touch me, and I'll feel it anyway,
like a phantom pain, but sweeter.
I feel the loss of that moment when
your reluctance
occupies your words,
forcing me to pretend I don't notice.
I know there will be more of these
reluctant words, know you have already
made up your mind to slip away.
And someday I'll miss even your slipping.
Now, though, I miss that precise moment,
your almost touch, that phantom pain.
- COMMENTS
twelveooneover 11 years agoa sonic pattern
pretend I don't notice.
I miss that precise moment,
that phantom pain.
i was just wondering how conscious it was
Scheherazade73over 11 years agoAuthor@twelveoone: I uses "precise" as a juxtaposition between the impossibility of assigning it any time value...it is, after all, nonexistent...and the reality of feeling it and experiencing it as if it's happening in real time. If that makes sense. I probably do it a disservice trying to explain it.
