In the gaze of the other

"My mistress' eyes are nothing…"

Never Saw You Coming (Yes I did)

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NEVER, no

I never expected you, never saw you coming, not at all,

but there you were, wearing all the wrong clothing:

horizontal striped collared button down shirt, like

colored bands ringing a thick, redwood tree trunk.

Middle aged folk fallen prey to time and gravity

don’t wear bold-colorful advertisements to widening

perimeters, especially for one with no boundaries,

sexually speaking, of course, not morally or politically.

And logo’d button down polos reek conservative bean 

counter, occupation-ally bound to count kisses, time and

orgasms, sans deductions for the unholy of holies among the

fiscally, vaginally vigilant.

And there I was, a raven, coated and shiny like wet ink newly

splotched on your parchment paper computer screen, dark

and waiting to be lit, turned and transformed beyond the

shadowy picture created in your imagination, confessions

and slick-wicked liquid words sliding thick viscous

through your keyboard fingers, just like we wrote, painted

pictures in sentences spelling out, enumerating, if you

will, voracious mimicry, want and want some more, only not

wanting all that just can’t have, not then, not now, but

something else arose, grew from our impossibility, your

straight laces strung tightly, fronting the devilry in your

daydreams, drooly lasciviousness set free, not freely given.

Yeah, we really did it for each other, whatever it was that

needed doing, and still do to both no one’s and yet everyone’s

surprise, including us who love so much so little of the

time, no time all the time, we who live separate lives

lived in broad daylight secrecy, while we storybook

pieces and patches of once upon a time we were other

people than we are and were then who could be us now.

You often ask, “Who knew you’d still be around?” And

“How could I have known? I didn’t see you coming.”

No, we didn’t see each other coming but we sure do now.

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