Obscured Love
Far away means strangers,
though we wish this isn't so.
Technology doesn't breathe,
can't connect like skin,
smells, tastes, touches,
eyes, ears, full body language.
If you aren't here and
I'm not there, it's a sorry
state to pretend we're known,
one to the other--we really aren't
and really can't be, without
one another's unique presence.
The pressure of now,
today tells us that no one lasts
forever, and memories are such
crumbs as dreams are made of.
Future plans must include
our bodies and voices up close,
else, what's the use? What
may we be pretending?--
Why do we kid ourselves
about the intimacy we need?
You don't know me if
you can't put your fingers
crumbs as dreams are made of.
Future plans must include
our bodies and voices up close,
else, what's the use? What
may we be pretending?--
Why do we kid ourselves
about the intimacy we need?
You don't know me if
you can't put your fingers
into the wounds on my side.
Susan Beverly
Susan Beverly MLA is a full-time writer, artist and musician. The Poetry Salon is her home base for all things artsy, in Owings Mills, Maryland, USA, open to anyone interested in creative pursuits. Meditation, nature, hardcopy books, and justice & mercy are a few other past times.. susanbeverly2003@yahoo.com
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Poetry