Whispered Rants from the Tuttle-Tuttle Tree

Random thoughts, rantings, and musings. Displayed for all to see, because sometimes it's saner to rant to random strangers than to rant to yourself. Also, the voices in my head don't always appreciate it when I talk back to them. Go figure.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

poem: Ache

An Ache

Who are you when you’re not with me?
Instead of asking,
I drink cool waters from your babbling lips.

Who is it that holds your heart at night?
Instead of wondering,
I breathe you in and live another day.

Do you know how much of me you own?
Instead of telling you,
I give myself to you again and again.

Whose touch does your skin ache for?
Instead of leaving,
I hold your hand, squeezing my pulse
between our palms.

Do you wonder why I ask no questions?
Do you think it is because I have no interest?
Oh, no, my love.
It is fear that holds my tongue.
Fear that you will be chased away
by something I cannot see
and I cannot stop.

Whose voice do you hear in your dreams?
I’m sorry, but I cannot ask.
I cannot free you so easily.

No.

And so,
veiled you will remain.
My silent pretender.

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