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Conditioning
by Laura DoomI prod your body, hoping
for a response, perhaps an infectious
laugh, the ghost of a smile, a giggle
strangled at birth; but the stimulus
suffers consensual death, suggesting
I should save my breath.
But for what? To suck the stagnant air
of mystery? I take each as it comes
as if it were my last, the chance
of submission to the unenviable
doubt that passion loves to spout.
We were beautiful as we were innocent
as open as we were close, a mélange of minds
in defiance of silence; what we didn't know
was well worth not knowing.
Behind closed eyes, I can feel my way around
the curvature of time and resuscitate the mime
that swears we are as good as our words. 08/13/2012 Posted on 08/13/2012
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/13/12 at 09:41 PM Evocation, I swear. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 08/14/12 at 02:50 PM Oh, I love this. I do believe that sex is such combination of physical and emotional release/connection that once it has served its intial purpose or purposes somehow it over shadows all other aspects of the relationship in that we are afraid if we reveal other secret feelings, ideas, or other aspects of life, we may somehow ruin everything. So we become secretive which in the long run murders the connection and we start trying harder and harder either pulling away or pushing to get closer than the other can handle. Take care lady. |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 08/16/12 at 01:50 AM I hope you will never save your breath, your way with words so potent to inspire hope in the lapse of mine. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 08/16/12 at 08:47 PM "In defiance of silence." I love that, but then I love the whole damn thing, too. |
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