As Questions Go |
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As questions go round and
round, spinning answers never found,
I ask myself every day if I
should ask or turn away.
To turn away and never seek
the smile I had and hope I lack,
or look toward the warmth
inside, where passion burns and heartbeats pound,
these questions chase each
other round and round.
Should I still touch you
with a word that flutters like the lightest bird?
I could tell you how my
heart would race to match yours in a heated pace
as bodies wrapped in
lovers' arms writhe and stir and groan and burn.
We could soar on eagle
wings and fall like stars while the warm wind sings.
We'd laugh and play and
rest and smile, if only for a little while.
This question tugs me every
day, asking you to come and play.
Or should I run out into
the night, bury my heart far out of sight?
Would it be better to let
memories roam, adrift where cold lone winds call home?
They could float on demons'
wings, back to where ungiven love springs.
Hell can keep its mocking
shadows, mere illusions of all that matters.
I ask if it is best that
way. The silent night will never say.
So I ask you not to tell,
if heaven wears the face of hell.
I ask you just to close
your eyes and feel my thoughts a little while.
A kiss, a tear, a sigh,
alone
A hope, a smile, a heart, your own.
©Sonja Torres 2001 |
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