Tryst

It was his aura and image that guided me
That drove me from my diurnal course
It was the curve of his lips and how
His one eyebrow split from an accident endured
It was all in the way he moved
The way he moved and moved me
His sweet, sweet laugh was my philter
And I drank it up, that euphonious sound
I drank it as a dilettante absorbs a painting
I drank it because I may never have seen it again
Or at least in such innocence
Then one day, for some unascertained reason
He suddenly noticed me noticing him
By some nirvana some bless, convivial grin
He told me to meet him, told me to see him
Yes I told him, yes I would and I most definately would

I gave myself to an aegis of something higher
Let myself fall on unseen hands
I trusted my God with my life and my trust
And gave in to Freud's Id and the yen
But I was young and Christian
I was everypart of wholesome
And I had a father with a gun
A little ring slipped on my finger
A simple dress laced with good intentions
A sweet little chiming of a sweet little bell
A new sound to drink in--drink in delight
To drink in with those good intentions but swallow in hell
I had lived some months in quiet perdition
Hoping God would take a late oath to justify
All the sins I'd manage to invent
But on the day when alone was all I'd never be--I was
Every ounce of my body gave into the
Rage and the heartache and allowed it to consume
Consume and breath until it formed a life of its own
And poured from my soul and out into the open
Where it existed within me and without me
And his name was a curse and his lies
The only truth I could know
I thought to kill him to thrill me to
Laugh heartedly in his blood
But some ounce of sanity in me retained
At least I say this because
Although my heart beat murder,
Everything and one remained
So close to the safeness of a consecrated love;
So close to Heaven, but not quite close enough

Life moved on as it inevitable will
As it regretfully will
Against all hope and want it will
But always, and always I stayed so critically the same
I do not know why I still loved him
I can not imagine why I was still faithful
Anyone else in my place would have scorned him
Would have not simply ignored him
But prayed the same pain enter him
Begged to whatever God would listen
To avenge my spirit and forgive brutal desires--but not me
Days passed and eventually a knock came at my door
A knock from him; Should I answer?
Slam the door?
Slam the truth?
Hide?
Fight?
Answer
"It's been awhile" he told me
The curve of his lips they told me
By some nirvana some blessed, convivial grin
He told me to meet him, told me to see him
Yes I told him, yes I would and I definately would