I didn’t have to fight for love,
to lower myself to my knees
to express regret
to instill a sense of longing to be
Once, I could look in eyes,
that would turn to the oceans great poets
speak of when the depths of one’s
become the anchor of our need.
When in a moment, skin to skin,
mind to mind, we might feel each other
soon to the compelling nature of our own
becoming one with hers, his, with ours.
I told myself countless times that a pursuant
mandate on my desire would be my silent demise.
© Scott F Savage 5/2020