Fact of the Matter

is I am a prisoner
of all the sentiments
I cannot tell her.

We have had our battles,
she and I,
and every white flag and dove
I have brought to her door
have been ignored.

I want to reach out my hand
and find her there,
this mysterious
earth woman
shrouded in shifting time.

Time and time again
we speak
of inconsequential things–
the weather; a current event,
the cost of living,

while my real words,
buried heart deep,
remain unspoken.

Then, with a click,
she is gone.
I love you,
I say bravely,

to dead air.

2 comments on “Fact of the Matter

  1. Ah, how many of us young men have all the magical words at our disposal that will sweep the hardest -to-win damsel off of her feet in a heartbeat, as in a voice that would melt the coldest heart we utter the winning words, just a split second, after hearing that click. I love it. Now, as I follow you, I will read some more, a little later.

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