Tag Archives: shy

in which love is just another imagined story by a hopeless writer who has dysgraphia

“and though to my arms you are forever lost,
you are a prisoner in my fantasy.”

~Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

~*~

you are my sweetest fiction,

conjured, derived from the very ends of

the lacklustre impediment

that is my algid imagination.

light calla lips flushed pleasantly

(though, i may only be imagining it so)

elusive soul a taunting fugitive

(from which i could never hope to catch

with bare hands and bare feet)

cerise smile melting upon liquid gaze

before i then realise—the blood was my own.

missing birthdays, unsent letters

piling into sealed dictionaries upon my oaken desk

and again, i weep the night sky

in the grievous absence of your starlight.

falling, falling; lilies, lilies,

plucked like shimmering innocence

from the skin of my gritted teeth, sighing

irreplaceable—!

though, your divine body is not mine

to ruin and revere relentlessly

under eternal storybooks and lost volumes of

anthologies, the empty pages

all at once interjecting: “impossible?!”

but, is it always so? must my fluttering shyness

be short-lived like your tyranny?

surely we must not always adore the

blinking butterflies, cascading iridescence

billowing solemnly into my reverie—

accidental interruption.

aralias, aralias; painful, painful;

i am to dirty fly as you are to decadent fruit

dragged down rather cruelly into

the ad infinitum of your fiery veneration

and i am unable to twist my words into cathartic

crashing, collapsing, holding it in…

but, i do not mind at all; for i lost mine

the moment you slipped from enthrallment into

the ache of my charismatic sternum,

submerging me in pacific oceans of desire—

enchantingly alluring me into the cozen, shackling confines

of the prison you call your heart.

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Avrill

Your efflorescent bloom

Air shyness of carnation

Light up planetary gloom

Of my fickle dissolutions

When my number’s up, fly

And my quill trickles tears

You dispel them and edify

An emollience of my fears.

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Misacquaintance

Dear Miss Acquaintance,

This is quite simply such a lovely weather today, is it not?

A fine blending of the seasons, neither too chilly nor too hot

Matter of fact, the sky matches perfectly the blue in your eyes

A cool ice cream colour with a sunny disposition, quite nice

Flattery? Ah, no no, dear miss acquaintance, it is all genuine

Although I quite like the rogue in your cheeks from the dopamine

But enough compliments, before I embarrass myself silly

How was your day, dear miss acquaintance? Pray tell me

I bet it’s been absolutely marvellous, a bonny little jive

Perhaps you’ve gone out with a parasol to take the stars alive

Or caught a redhead fairy in your perfume jar, named it Amelia

Gave it as a present to your cousin, who cheers in hysteria

Maybe you found a butterfly weak, tucked it within your lace hanky

Wept emeralds and rubies in a fit of an injustice melancholy

Ah, how awfully kind it is of you, dear miss acquaintance

Oh how I wish I wasn’t admiring your kindness from a distance

I sorely hoped I was there to offer you a comforting wonder

Or feign a jocular slapstick act to lighten your spirits asunder

Did you pass today by the candy shop, hugged all the sticky kids?

Did you pet that calico tabby by the park, just like you always did?

Did you set in motion a million carousels, spinning pins, Ferris wheels?

Did you make this planet a little greener than it is with your soft rosy heels?

You are quite the mystical creature, I must say, dear miss acquaintance

Your precious soul’s much too fine with purity for the universe to even taste

You splash colour to leaden tinsel towns like a Rembrandt with your dance

Making assurance that not a single day goes by you to wither and waste

Yet now it’s quite the gracious blessing to be resting at the same park bench

With you, dear miss acquaintance, it pulls even my stubborn heart at a wrench

You sit there with that whimsy smile of yours, polishing painstakingly your glasses

I stumble silently on my quill and linen as centuries cease, a sluggish second passes

Ah, it seems, dear miss acquaintance, that you’re rested and ready to head on home

You smile back to me, a glowing lollypop smile, and I trance before I wound up alone

Sitting dumbfound, holding a shaky envelope, a lost letter of all the things I have yet to say

Forgive me, you’re a busy maiden, my dear miss acquaintance, perhaps you’ll hear me out some other day.

Best Regards,

Sir Reptitious

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