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Jun 2016
It started with a touch -
Nothing and everything special,
A gentle hand on the arm
As a sort of comforting reassurance
In a friendly-stranger-sort-of-way.
A way of saying everything is fine -
I'm talking to you because I want to
Not because I feel obliged to.
It was that simple gesture
That made me fall in love with you.
And there, senoras y senores,
Is your answer.
I fall in love too easily.
Poets fall in love too easily,
And each for different reasons -
All with a psychological deficiency,
Or maybe psychological necessity.
Mine, it becomes clear to me now,
Is the desperate desire to be held
In any meaningful way
For as long as possible.
And that acknowledgement
Brings forth logic and reason:
I know very few things about her
And always will.
She is a passing poet's love...
Just red hair and a sense of humour
Caught in a fortnight's daydream.
Thomas Newlove
Written by
Thomas Newlove  26/M/Co. Wicklow (Ireland)
(26/M/Co. Wicklow (Ireland))   
501
   Aazzy, nivek and ---
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