Minuet

Our dance stilted,        we stumble over unseen obstacles        gilt ghosts in the gallery reminding us        of all the reasons why        you and I cannot be        I saw her with you,        unaware of your soul's betrayal,        oblivious to our soaring hearts.        Does she know, does she care?        Or are you merely her mask        of respectability,        donned for public occasions?        My own ghost hovers nearby        watching for the slightest crack        in his wall of possession        He imagines my infidelity under every shadow,        behind every passing glance.        How can he now fail to see        my divided loyalties, and your        stalwart adoration of his chattel?        Lost in creating their own worlds, I suppose,        they have allowed us ours, if only        of ink, paper, words        you call our love pure        but Eros and Agapé struggle anew        and I fear the outcome is known:        brief passion, bodies wet and sated,        lives broken and bleeding,        the detritus of our weakness        the price of bliss        I think you were blinded        by the last westering rays on my locket        through the haze I see it so clearly        as we dance again in dreams        you kiss my hand and bow deeply        your poet's mask my undoing        yet knowing, I surrenderIn response to Chris Ingham's Love Letters series. A different take on the Felicity character...#4 Written January 18th, 2002 © on Jan 18 2002 12:55 PM PST   0 • 8