|
i died tonight — 8 july 2003 some direction — 21 march 2001 root of all knowledge — 8 february 2001 an angel — 12 september 2000 in the country — 6 september 2000 untitled — april 2000 thoughts at lunch — february 2000 another failed love poem — late 1999 what do i think of reality? — february 1999 winter — november 1998 |
ANOTHER FAILED LOVE POEM -- LATE 1999 I always told myself that if--no, when I fell crazy in love, it would be based purely on the girl's perfect personality. That is, looks never entered the equation; that would be far too stereotypical for someone such as myself. It didn't quite happen that way. But she has the most incredible face! See, it isn't my fault at all, not in the least. You must understand, this is the kind of face that makes you hesitate to recite Shakespeare for fear of offending her beauty. Her hair is the subtle shade of brown; that same color which anyone less perfect would have outgrown. And her eyes--have you ever considered begging for a glance? Certainly, anything for such a gift. Surely, one might think, immaterial means must play some small part. Some? There are all the aspects so obvious (but so intangible) that they almost go unnoticed. She has this sort of aloof expressiveness: a kind of grace-in-silence that makes it impossible to ignore her presence. Something behind that voice makes you willfully stumble over your own words in favor of hers. Not to mention that indefinable feeling of surrender that so easily replaces your need to go on living the everyday life. What of it, you ask. Another failed love poem? Another stolen look in the hallways to be met with nothing more than heartbreak? Not that I'm shy, but what do you call it when it hurts to look into the light? A wish, maybe. Love...possibly. Where the justification for printing such a thing lies escapes me. |
©2010 JW, all rights reserved.