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You

I walk the city streets alone,
but feel the stirring from your eyes.
You're watching from a nearby table,
caressing me as I walk by.
And the city sounds disappear,
as your waiting eyes pull me near -
I'm home.

I lie in the dark alone,
but touch you in the candle flame.
I feel your breath against my skin,
and tremble as you call my name.
And the heavy darkness disappears,
as your waiting hands pull me near -
I'm home.

I'm home -
here in the heat of your arms.
Some days it feels like love is lost forever.
I'm home -
until I wake, and I'm alone.
Why does this dreaming go on?
When will our lives become one?
When will my love find a home?

***

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Sometimes "he" feels so close. Ah, well...
Thank you for reading!
L

author comment

an aura of longing that pervades this poem. Thinking of how to make the past 'one' with you, it becomes clear that walking alone is doing that. Asking that last question is the ache of needing comfort and wondering how to find it. I hope that it is near. Beautiful, and lonely. ~ Geez.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

I write a lot of poetry about my late wonderful husband, but I actually had a potential future partner in my mind with this poem. You are right about the longing, though. But of course, a watched pot never boils, right? Most days I move steadily along!
Thank you for reading and your thoughtful, kind comments!
L

author comment

What's the hold-up? Are you afraid to make a move; or is he the one who is holding back? Does he know how you feel? Sic 'em girl, don't wait until the cows come home. ~ Geez.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

At this point, he is simply a figment of my imagination, completely in my dreams. After Covid hides its tail between its legs and runs away, I'll get back out there! Until then, it's just poetry-worthy. You are a good friend!
Thank you!
L

author comment

Your words are always so kind, Alan. Almost didn't publish this one, but then - what is poetry?
Thank you!
L

author comment

''Do not allow your words to cause you to cry, leave the tears for your readers''

One young hopeful poet went to a poetry maestro teacher
He narrated his poem and crying rose
the poet did him dispose

you are no poet son
go to the beaches run
till you meet Alan .
but poetry he did abandon
And besides him still stands his enemy
ROSE
in me
Alan hope you take up now
as NEO'S
CEO

Your love will find home soon. The imagery is classic and well tailored to trigger a moment of silence. Nice piece.

Bathe yourself with poetry and let the world go to pieces.

Thank you for reading, and your thoughtful words and encouragement!
L

author comment

is a poem of detailed complexity
the love of one gone
but not yet gone fully
still living hopefully

looking at another with fear
will he also leave me
but I will be home actually
let me try to be home
but will he
all say try
LAVE
Now I shall thank
Alan and Lovedly
take me to his home quickly
he is equally lovely
homely
may he also be
now for me
really

Thank you very much!
L

author comment
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