Passionate Confusion

 

When reflecting on our last

            Encounter,

I think about what was different.

What happened between us?

For why was there a diaspora between

Our two bodies, a maddening divide that felt

                                                            Infinite.

What have I done to cloud your opinion

Of Me? You who speaks…

Speaks with your lips, labial and languid.

Luxurious. Lackadasical.

Speaks with your teeth, dental and defined.

Tintalating. Tantalizing.

With passionate words that leave me breathless and

                        Hungry.

Speaks with your heart, mind, soul.

You whose hands convey what little is left ambiguous, your fingers, rough

With a maturity I will always yearn for.

Is this heart-felt grappling a punishing

            Consequence of

                                    Transgression?

Hurt, psychosis, confusion.

Why won’t you save me from this?

Won’t you save me from this madness?

Your once warm eyes now stare, bored into me with hurtful, judgmental

            Distaste.

What awful offence have I trespassed against you?

How can I repent for your redemption?

 

I miss the eloquence of your speech.

Clearly thought out phrases, sentences structured for optimum pleasure.

Words, enunciated with affect.

Consonants. Vowels.

            Emotional affection.

What have I done to be so robbed of the pleasure I seek from your gaze?

Your words.

Your lips.

Your tongue.

 

Save me from myself.

            Put an end to this confusion.