Wednesday, June 3, 2009



Looking at the world through tears the lines tend to blur. His hand touches my shoulder when my mind calls my heart stupid.


She whispers in my ear when my heart calls my brain a liar. He kissed me when you said that what was is now over yet it became the norm.


This woman caressed my head when the things you said did not match the facts but the facts could not be proven.

This man put his hand on my thigh while you did what you said you had no desire to.


Her words made love to my mind when your actions were to be “friendly” and not “lovingly”.


His manhood uploaded inside of me when you told me that your fidelity once went astray. She was born out of the womb of our secrets.


He grows more and more when things that were not, are; when mystery is invited to stay and trust in dragged out kicking and screaming.


She lies with me at night when (my ex’s name) is gone and I’m alone. When my heart has invoked faith and has silenced my brain from its constant chattering.


When I’m alone and I am consumed in his embrace he says in the after glow insurmountable passion


“Why are you alone?”


I say


“Looking at the world through tears, the lines tend to blur.”


©Christopher F. Brown 2009


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