Disaster mister why do you haunt me?
Why do you send me beauty formed of friend
singing lullabies, wooing me even though he says
Not him, not me.
I can not help myself
craving his eyes to look, from a distant place
in the room I swoon in.

Upon my hands, the white of my skin,
the arc of my back, my shy insecurity.
His eyes never sway, swerve, or veer upon
any other delight that might tempt him with angelic grace.

This daydream consumes me,
each moment of waking hours ticked off by
a pretend tearing me from my life in three dimensions.

"The man of God does everything opposite to what the world does or approves of; he goes "against the grain" of society because he knows these things displease God"

So I fail to be upright, in full view.
   I ask to take this replayed vision away,
          remove the desire,
               change me, change this, let me know, remove my life.

Be bold enough
to send me to him
or from him
or him to me
or him from me
Or what have you given us all these days?