May I Ask for Clarity?
A sliver of an icy moon
and a single diamond star
guided me home tonight.
I thought of that moon
watching over you.
Meanwhile, on the horizon,
the sun let go its last rays
ripping the earth from the sky
with a blade of magenta
and another of gold.
Safe at home,
I made a mug of hot chocolate
and curled into bed to read for a bit.
Again I thought of you
and prayed you were safe
and warm as well.
Though the setting was nearly ideal,
a discontent began to seep in and rise.
I wanted more than anything
to feel your arms around me and
the velvet touch of your lips on my neck.
That discontent I cannot control.
There are days it builds to indescribable pain
until I’m sure I cannot breathe.
Tonight, my mind drifted off
to a new preoccupation
and I wondered
whether you would make it stop,
make me stop, if you could.
Would you lift my love from your shoulders
and deposit it somewhere else?
And a worry crossed my mind
like many times before. . .
Does my love weigh on you?
Cause you anxiety
or pain?
Fearing it does
keeps me from reaching out to you
even though I’d like to hear your voice
every week if I could,
see your eyes
more than how seldom I do.
And those thoughts faded to another. . .
I think back to that night
when your candor caught me off guard.
I wonder what you’d really said, felt, thought.
I wish now I could ask what exactly it was that you told me.
I’ve coursed over the entire night a million times in my mind,
but it makes no more sense to me now than it did then
but for a tinge less bite.
Straight away you had mentioned marriage
which caught me so off guard my response
was comically less than eloquent.
I wish I could ask now where that comment came from
and whether you had been thinking about it for a while
as it seemed you had.
Posted by Amanda at December 12, 2003 10:52 PM
