Safe Admiration

I have tried seeing other futures.

I have invited my desires to lunch,

tied my fantasies to my bed

with handcuffs and silk scarves;

passed days walking around emptied

and completely filled, with such

intimate pains and bruises and this

sensation of being opened so far

I will never close again. I have lain in

the dewy grass at night, asked the

shooting stars to deliver me to new

destinies. Closed my eyes to kiss the

wind and thus explored the open

mouth of my greatest fears. But very

few tongues ever understood mine

as deeply and wetly, as yours.

 

My throat wants to moan your name

when gripped tightly in the hands of

another age. I ride those crashing

interior waves of other seas in the

vessel you constructed and gave to me.

I travel outside myself to nonexistent

lands in search of your footsteps. The

teeth of your soul sink into my shoulder

and neck and breast, pinning me in

this world while my body tries to

levitate into the next. No, this is not

some tame intellectual long-distance

longing, this is not some safe admiration.

 

It is still the taste of your dreams

I lick from the fingers of my most

salacious nights. I will know you

by the eyes. When I found enough

courage to peer into the scrying

glass, they looked steadily back at

me from my daughter’s face. I could

only see the planes of the back

of the man walking away from me,

again. Him, I did not recognize.

But those eyes…

looked a lot like yours.

Author's Note

There is often someone we just cannot seem to ever completely let go of, in our innermost heart. We may spend the better part of a lifetime wishing that things could have been different.

Translated from the original in Spanish:
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/zorra_encantada/1951205/

picture is an interet photo, artist unknown

Reviews

[emmajoy]

The grip of more than a lover remains. Like it or not, one can't escape, the scent, the sense, the feel of the past is so easily recovered.. without it, life isn't life. Perhaps. The passion with which you write, the passion of what you write, is root deep in your Being, dear friend.. and, methinks, you never would escape because - who knows, you'd be lost without it.

Beautiful words, emotionally charged; somehow tapping gently on this reader's mind - from somewhere in the distant past. Perhaps. x

[Raquelita]

They say we can lie with our minds, and sometimes with our hearts and even souls- but not with our bodies. If we pay attention to what our body tells us, we will always know with certainty where our hearts and souls are really directed. You see the meaning in this one very deeply, my friend. There are some memories we cannot let go of, from this life or future lives or past life remembrances- that we simply cannot let go of. No matter how many times we try to do so, no matter how many others we invite to try to take their place- we cannot excise them from our deepest longings. I think it is a rare git to be completely present with the person making love to you don't you?

[emmajoy]

It is.. but then - one could also say that person's presence is the finest of all gifts! But.. how very true about those memories, R.

[Raquelita]

I have always believed that the cultivation of true presence is the finest gift we have to give any other human being. The most beautiful, most healing, most gracious, most intense.

[Mary]

Your poem exudes passion, the searching for, the desiring of. It's - a painfully beautiful write- the blend of searching and longing and remembering. thank you for sharing this.

[Raquelita]

Thank you very much, Mary, for the read and review and understanding. I am glad you did see the meaning in this one. Most of my poems are based on something from life- and this is no exception. I find myself still trying to open to new paths and opportunities, but unable to let go of a different one. And this is what I wrote about here. Exactly what you said: longing and remembering.