… full of words and tales

i kissed you once out
here beside these trees, and
in soft regret your eyes were
turned inward, towards that part
of your life invisible to all but,
or even and, yourself

but the memory is not the
kiss, it is the look and the
feel of your face as i touched
it, brushing the hair back
off your forehead, appraising both
the moment and the look in
your eyes

but what is frozen often
melts, if enough time passes, and
only now do i recognize something
like fear mixed with your
longing – for while you felt something
for me, i was a strange, unpredictable
creature in your eyes, full of
words and tales

and the stories you knew
best always ended up being
scary ones: perhaps this was
a false setup to a frightening
ending – you weren’t sure

but i mistook that look for
a bad grade, and

dropped the class

Love Spasm The Third

When my ex left, our youngest was
But three years old – alas –
So I would take him daily to
A little pre-k class

The girl who worked there was so young
But seemed to like the way
I’d sit with him – and other kids –
Beginning every day

So, finally, I asked her out
And she said that she would
So I drove out to get her
When she said it would be good

And she came out to meet me
Well before I’d left my car;
And it struck me, so I asked her
Before I had gone too far

Exactly just how old she was
“Um, twenty” – her head hung —
She looked up, her eyes pleading
Asking if that was too young

“Oh, no, no – you’re age suits you”
That was all I thought to say
But I knew I wouldn’t go on
Any further in this way

So post-dinner, I told her
Gently, how much fun I had
And then I took her back home
To her mother and her dad

And said, “I will not lie to you:
I will not call again,
But if I may, I’d like to say
To you now, as a friend:

You’re beautiful and charming,
And if ages weren’t in play,
I’d probably want to call you
From the end of the driveway.”

But she was not placated
As we both felt something strike:
The pain of liking someone
Who it is
Just wrong
To like

Love Spasm The Eighth

What makes love strong can also make it painful.
A college boy, and she, a college girl –
We wandered in the autumn of enjoyment
And let our flags of ecstasy unfurl

It wasn’t what was physical about us:
The question that we answered in our quiz
That, although brief, reminded me forever
That perfect love is perfect, when it is

Love Spasm The Fifth

A brief attempt at a long-distance relationship. And a cat.

She was a lovely person
Friends with my friend’s fiancee;
They travelled down from Baltimore
To spend the holiday

I had just got a kitten
From the local shelter’s care;
When they came by to visit
I became, well, quite aware

How pretty and how funny and
How interesting she seemed;
And as she watched the kitten play
Her laughing visage beamed

We spent two weeks together
Mostly her, the cat, and me —
Agreeing we would correspond
And see what we could be

But letters, calls and flowers
Couldn’t bridge us o’er the span
Of distance in a romance that
Had barely yet began

But she was honest, forthright
And it ended gracefully;
She, so soon then married —
Still alone

My cat

And me

Love Spasm The Fifth (1b)

Roni

Roni

When Roni had me pick her up,
I almost lost my mind:
A lonely dude at twenty-three
The restless dating kind

We got dressed up to go to see
The local symphony;
Italian dinner, wine, and then
A drive down by the sea

She touched my face with both her hands
And I’m sure it went scarlet:
If this had been a movie script
She’d be the stunning starlet

And I, the semi-funny schlump
Who somehow gets the girl:
But we weren’t in a movie script
And that was not our world

Instead, we chatted in the dark
Beside the waters glowing;
I’d brush the hair back from her face
So long and brown and flowing

And I don’t know that she could know
Just what that was for me;
For her, some dating throwaway,
For me, a memory

Of moonlight and of Roni
All alone out very late:
As we fogged up the windows,
Just two people, on a date

Love Spasm the First

What she did was cavilling
Herself she had indicted;
And though she tiptoed round the truth
Somehow I think I liked it

She sang her song of innocence
As sweetly as the birds;
Then picked my pocket clean
While I was hanging on her words

A carny and a gamin
What you saw was what you’d find:
But I felt pangs of love for her
I’d lost my freaking mind

Love Spasm The Seventh

Alright, then. She was forty-six
And I was twenty-three;
And I would fantasize about her
With some frequency

She worked just down the hall, divorced,
With boys about my age;
And we were friends, we laughed, we talked
And one day reached the stage

Where she thought she would fix me up.
So I would choose from three
Young friends of hers; we’d all go out
And see what we would see.

After that evening, at her place
She asked me who among –
But the next words I never heard
Instead I felt her tongue

Inside my mouth, her lips on mine
And it was everything
I had imagined it would be.
And so began our fling.

We weren’t “together” all that long
She broke it off one day;
Saying it was not fair to me
And had to be this way

But that’s another story.
Life seems strange, then, in review:
For fantasies aren’t always idle
Sometimes
They come true
.
.
.

(this prompt)