I Dreamed of Love

From the first time I said your name,

Savored its flavor in my mouth.

I knew it for an I not.

For surely each tongue tastes each name,

Sets stone upon stone in memory,

To recklessly bind that flavor,

And forever recall that face, name, time.

It hollowed me,

And I was the feeble child; face of plaster

Who was lying to

You and himself.

An actor desperately clenching to skill.

I was unsure how long I lay shelved;

Now among the moon beams,

Now among the day dreams.

But it was the same shelf day after day,

One that left me sore to the touch,

A lining of sandpaper to help me stay.

And the questions that you gave me;

Unnerving, unrelenting to my silence.

Where is it in me that I can,

How is it that this happened,

Can I ever get her to love me,

Why, why why why why?

My creature wilted and succored itself,

Feeding on the guilt it shed.

Your every silent breathe chipped away,

Left of center, nail deep to my heart

And I soon crooned my love to death,

Wishing to hold it,

Enwrap it for the mollifying flavor it alone had.

To see the starkness of her feeling for me,

It was breathtaking, terrible in its solidarity.

No knowing, for there was no revealing,

No animosity, for I was the guilty,

There was no love,

Not even to haunt my dreams.

There was no denying reality,

Cause there was nothing to hold onto.

Nothing to hint at love inside of me.

No. Never in me.

Because they never thought there could be.