SDNess
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jan 4, 2004
- Messages
- 233
that unknown torrent of feeling i’ve never felt
that unknown torrent of feeling i’ve never felt,
bereft of chance, your eyes possess a coy twinkle
of mute and dubious incandescence that traps
and enraptures me, but leaves me in the same void
and beneath that twinkle lurks a silent stillness
that mimes a truth of hopeless love only for me
and the doleful souls attracted to Perfection
in its seemingly mortal manifestation
even your faint grin, Perfection, suffices for
self-absorbed ecstasy and mirth – despite their false
natures – because i am plainly a mortal man
who desires the mystic kiss of a goddess
so i bear hubris and gaze in the same manner
as poor Actaeon and, like him, have been struck by
arrows, but yours are made of an ambivalence
unlike Diana’s, which made him a helpless stag
alas, it is your uncertainty that captures
my heart for i see a frailty living beneath
your keen wit; i want to reach out and grasp you but
i cannot because you have divinely vanished
you, the fleeting seamstress trailing strands of my love
there is nothing else which i feel can supersede
all the beauty together which we could have sewn:
depicting life, death, and eternity by stitch
but beyond ersatz embroidery i do not
know why i have tethered my soul to yours aside
an expos and understanding that yours is as
genuine as a lone star’s ashen gleam at dusk
that unknown torrent of feeling i’ve never felt,
bereft of chance, your eyes possess a coy twinkle
of mute and dubious incandescence that traps
and enraptures me, but leaves me in the same void
and beneath that twinkle lurks a silent stillness
that mimes a truth of hopeless love only for me
and the doleful souls attracted to Perfection
in its seemingly mortal manifestation
even your faint grin, Perfection, suffices for
self-absorbed ecstasy and mirth – despite their false
natures – because i am plainly a mortal man
who desires the mystic kiss of a goddess
so i bear hubris and gaze in the same manner
as poor Actaeon and, like him, have been struck by
arrows, but yours are made of an ambivalence
unlike Diana’s, which made him a helpless stag
alas, it is your uncertainty that captures
my heart for i see a frailty living beneath
your keen wit; i want to reach out and grasp you but
i cannot because you have divinely vanished
you, the fleeting seamstress trailing strands of my love
there is nothing else which i feel can supersede
all the beauty together which we could have sewn:
depicting life, death, and eternity by stitch
but beyond ersatz embroidery i do not
know why i have tethered my soul to yours aside
an expos and understanding that yours is as
genuine as a lone star’s ashen gleam at dusk