Felt That Without Description

When love came to us...
Where were the conditions?
I did not hear or see them.
I did not feel a restriction,
Slowly peeling to strip from us...
The hunger of touching.

When love came to us...
We did not care there were physical flaws.
Or blemishes of imperfection.
Only caressing kept us awed.
As we pawed and played.
In uninhabited abandonment.

When love came to us...
Why could we not keep it,
As it came to nourish.
Was there too much of it shown?
Too much to satisfy,
Until it was decided it will be there...

I had taken us too for granted.
And you took too much to leave me...
Finally in my own grief.
I can not believe the depth.
I have felt that without description.
Realizing my selfishness became too soon,
A demand of your attention...
I did not have the patience to wait for then!
And now with patience,
I have no peace without you...
I can announce is mine,
If in conferences we shared
Before we slept close...
Finds us in separate beds yearning.
At least...
I am in need.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Comments (1)

You read my mind and wrote it with such seeming ease of pen. t x