Love Is Seemingly Out Of The Question

Poem By Uriah Hamilton

I was very much impressed
By her floral dress
When we met
In the empty church
By the votive alter,

But I was mystified
And my soul distressed
By her pale and melancholy face;
I was certain I saw it before
In an ancient wedding
From another lifetime
Or restful in a casket.

She can’t be
What she currently pretends,
A stranger or anonymous friend
Willing to extend her thin hand
Without preconditions
Too difficult to comprehend.

I stared at her
For a minute eternity
The way someone does
When they’re in love with you
Or seek your execution
But then I felt the anchor-like weight
Of her heartfelt reproach
And disciplined my eyes.

I was surprised
And smiled
When she scraped
Some latent thought
Beneath the surface
Of my mind and said,
“I would make love to you tonight,
But you would want my bracelet
Or some other keepsake
As if the perfume of my essence
Wasn’t sufficient for your memory.”

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