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Christian Que Feb 2010
Given a few moments to rest
Granted like fate, not kindly, not cruel
But with a sense of difference
Where in place I'd show indifference

Thinking quietly in pleasant worry
You left me to myself for a while
Given time to sit, to laugh
Helplessly, hopeless, because i know

I'm not assured
Then again, I'm not too concerned
There's a depth, a warmth
That i can understand

We see it all
Encompassed around a soft shell
There is a different approach
Passion overlapped with need

But taken lightly
The pressure smooth and caressing
Grasping, somehow still selfless
A calm mixture, it settles well

And worry recedes, a casual absence
Slipping away with stung pride
Giving way to what has grown
Tangled heart, it had always known
Christian Que Feb 2010
You dig too deep when there is no need to, depleting
My resources, ignoring (perhaps unaware of) what is in front of
You, why don’t you want to see!

I was hopeful, even in mild anguish,
But I do not want to be another, who does this,
But you scare(d) me. Real bad
Nerves, after so many hesitations from aggravation
Like an animal distrusting, will run.

Do I taunt her? Only to hide promises.
Do I not have what I offer? Why must words seal.
Mistakes often made, I hope I made one than.

The Agreement is not fulfilled.
Yet…
When you are in the room, you are the only
Person, always the only one –always so singular.

You are like a force of nature
The essence of vitality, too extravagant for
Time, you belong in another among Greek goddesses
And a higher world of Spirit
Maybe morals too, but I do not know
Whether they exist, or are only ideals.

You are an ideal woman, you are Ideal.
Does this drive me from you?
That I, rebel of convention, dejected of state
And you enforce, unknowingly, what I resist.

To conquer, yes, it would be wrong. To conquer you,
Would be to fall in two, a trap I hastily avoid.
I do not speak of love, but assumptions
So hindering to our development—so…
Stagnant, repugnant and UGH, that feeling.

I am independence’s lover
And through love of you, I fear
I channel: you must be independent
Even of me, totally.
Fie! Am I too await this conclusion of all that I...?
Hark! Think not of that future, potential unknowable
Time. I cannot grip it, nor make it mine

And this I must think of you too,
Fearful that I am too comforted by abandonment
And commitment renders me impotent
And so the struggles last, and love waits unresolved.
Too hasty at best, and too stupid in truth,
Love unlearns to re-teach old lessons

— The End —