Untenable

For one; myself
Some things, well-
They just don’t unfold as hoped
Life has its own little quarks
And people are usually causative
Oh- the things we create without hesitations
She was elegance in every sense of the word
Speech, mannerism as well as her looks
I required cruel unrefined elucidation
Where the caverns of my heart are traded
For the caverns of yesterday's rivers
Or scent of fish devoured my wishes
In fresh unadulterated raging waters
Where the stench of old barren land
Overcame her personal body aroma
I’d realized by now, I had to get away
From the suffocating realm I resided in
To where the unwanted often go to stray
Wherever I dare walked, she was there
Smoothness of her skin laid bare in flowers
As sun-rays glistened off naked essence
I’d seen her silhouette in shapes of clouds
As if she was always turning- away
Her face appears on surfaces of water
If but only a bewildering instant
Creating startling mornings to say the least
The scent of my closeness with her
Ran wild in the lightest of breezes
Toying and teasing my heartfelt memories
The moon’s sensual touch resented hers
And all our intimate conversations
Became my gnawing obtuse confusion
Abundance of life was becoming torturous
I needed somewhere she couldn’t imbue
Maybe snow cap terrain where life is stalled
So I chose a combo, the desert and mountains
A journey selected by only a few handfuls
An operous pathway, I may not complete
Or could even break me beyond recovery
Half a year long and maybe then some
If I chose to delay my retreating advancement
And I do so enjoy those winter landscapes
There was no rush, nor anyone to rush back to
Finally a tangible ghost in the flesh, sort to speak
Perhaps, it was always destined to be this
Me and life, on our own battlefield
No one to bare wittiness- of a loser or victor
Clearly, I was already disadvantaged in my role
And life, will have its home field advantage
My storms of survival will be reality and surreal
Drowned in nature's own code of silence
Much like they are now, anyways
I may not finish, or be found along the way
Discovered by a new life crashing into mine
And lose any need to carry onward in this escape
Who knows, should I become returned
I may well have forgotten her
Though, not near as easily...as she has me


Poet of the Light © 2020