I can bear this wicked tongue no longer!
I cannot. The silence breaks upon me
like the cobalt waves of raging seas
upon the lonely sands I dare not etch your name,
for fear a jealous Moon would swell the evening tides
and wash it all aside!
Ah, your name, a name that fills a heart with wonder.
Speak it now, but a whisper, and I tremble as I've trembled
never before! What wonders have I found in but a name!
What curious glances I have found in speaking it
in place of another, and what wicked glares they turn!
But no one can deny the spirit of that name!
I have whispered it upon the winds, alone,
for no reason but to hear its lilting nature
being borne upon the breeze. I have sung it
from the rooftops under a pale moon and stars.
Silly perhaps, but intoxicating, nonetheless.
But intoxication inferior to hearing my lowly name
as one with your melodies. No, do not speak it, I beg!
My name upon your lips will paralyze my tongue,
and all the courage of my passion slowly fades.
Do not! Let me speak and gaze upon the magic of those eyes.
Those eyes! What fuel stokes such fire, such passion?
With but a glance you had me, stripped cobwebs
from my eyes, and set me free of barren chambers,
echoing only silence.
No, do not ask, for I cannot say the way of it,
only that they drive me like no other
to be more than what I am.
I long to touch the beauty, to understand, if not to hold.
I did not ask for Cupid's arrow up my backside
though I've certainly become, of late, his pincushion;
a thousand tiny arrows creeping through my veins,
bound to revitalize the heart of winter-night.
Never did I ask, but I dare not let it fade!
I've never felt the comfort as I feel when I'm with you.
Though my tongue must disagree and rebel insidiously.
Perhaps I do not know just what I wish to say?
Is this man before you but a shadow of a former self?
If such I am, then let the wheel of time rewind
so I might find that younger man of strength, of courage,
whose eyes of blue yet hold the glint of willful hope.
But no, that wouldn't do—then I might never know you.
A life without the glimmer of those wondrous pools of brown
would be no life at all, and a shadow I'd still be.
A half-life for a half-man—no, that just wouldn't do.
Do you see—Do you?
My tongue betrays me, my mind wanders
like a feeble-minded gypsy who has left his brain behind.
Ah, you smile, and such a delightful smile it is
—with dancing lights in eyes draped with silken locks!
My spirit sputters like a failing candle, yet that simple smile,
so breathlessly enchanting, brings it again to highest flame!
How can any man not... do I dare to say it? To speak it
could mean the death of all that is and all that could ever be.
I've never felt the comfort as I feel when I'm with you.
Do you see—Do you?
My tongue betrays me, my mind wanders.
Perhaps I do not know just what I wish to say.
If even I should try, what if I am wrong—What costs?
I did not ask for Cupid's arrow up my backside,
but his wretched bolt has found me just the same.
Never did I ask, but I dare not let it fade!
Do you see—Do you? But what if I am wrong?
No, do not say, for I cannot bear the weight of it.
My tongue betrays me, my mind wanders, my spirit flutters.
I've never felt the comfort as I feel when I'm with you.
Silly, perhaps, but intoxicating nonetheless.
Ah, again you smile.
Oh how I long to touch that beauty!
But do I dare to say it, to speak it in whispers?
Do you see—Do you?
Keith E. Sparks Jr.
Copyright © 2007, 2019
Written in 2007 and later published in "Facets" in 2019.
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