It is the frustration of denial
The longing for the impossible
For that life I can't have -
For possibilities unraveled
Into hundred what ifs
- cast out like
Handfuls of seed
None of them finding fertile ground.
Seed that is full to capacity
With fever dreams.
With night explorations
Damp fingers
And swollen lips
You are temptation because
You smiled
You said hello
At a moment when all my seams
had grown tight,
overwrought, overfilled, long ignored
You looked back
When you should not have -
And the tight bound bag of seed
I'd been carrying and adding to my life
Day after day
of invisible
Had sprung a leak -
I was trying so hard.
Every day I patch it up
And every night it leaks
Anew.
Years of seed - packed with every forbidden desire,
Every adventure not lived
With forest dew on my bare chest
and desert sand in my hair
All the my bound up control not released.
Every no I ever got - became seed
Every rebuff
Years of silence and
Waiting for a yes.
But you,
You can give me no yes
Your ground is owned
By other masters
Your goals are claimed by other vows
I am far away and nothing to you.
While in a moment, you became every
Secret wish I ever had
Poor man - all you did was look back and glimpse me.
Trip over my baggage
See the woman standing there.
It is good
That you are far away
That your land has already been deeply tilled
That there is no place to
Take root - to let any of this
Mad, insane, wild seed grow.