Newport Beach, CA, USA
dancing alone in my room,
dark with love's persistent shadows
and heavy with the scent
of solitary pleasure,
I remember how you would never
dance with me.
Yet once upon another time
you held me trembling
in your gentle hand,
soothed me like a frightened bird.
Smiling you searched my eyes,
knew I trembled with blossoming desire.
There was no fear in me
except the fear that you'd grow tired
of my saucer-eyed innocence,
that you'd go away, never again
tease me into sweet dilerium
with your quick,bright tongue.
You never did grow weary
of the many ways I learned to celebrate
the lines and curves of your body,
grown so familiar to me
I could love them as well
if I were blind.
It was a kind of blindness
that made me turn away from you.
It was I who grew not weary,
but ever more curious.
In my impetuous awakening
of the body's many possibilities
I turned to another who's easy smile
quickened the flame between my thighs,
till it consumed whatever I knew
of common sense and good judgement.
I thought I loved him,
not having learned yet the difference
between devotion and desire.
And when I finally realized my mistake,
you were far away, dancing
with someone wiser than me.
dancing alone at 3am,
I recognize your shadow
smiling at me from the corner
of the room,reaching a hand
to pull me close.
I taste your honey breath
as I feel myself gathered
into sweet solid arms.
These 20 years later
you lead me into our very first dance.
I can only close my eyes
"We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion.....the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"
--John Keating, Dead Poets Society