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I do not imagine your tresses as they fall
on your shoulders,
I do not admire you overwhelmingly then
although I do look
but not with expressions
of callous flirtations
but of perhaps awe
or maybe a mild appreciation
what if i say this now
that in my subconscious reality
your presence has a beauty
of its own
mind you it is not really therapeutic
or meditative
but it does makes my head argue
with my heart

I do look at your eyebrows
when you are contemplative
your eyes laugh when you do
and i can gather the ripened moment
when you wish to cry or seek comfort

I imagine spending time with you
and i most certainly look for you
in my dreams,
creating ripples of
Innocent joys
In my own way, I am smitten
by your feminine swagger
and love the way you share
your stories

I enjoy visiting book shops, cafes and libraries
with you
or any place where you want to be
where I can get inspired
by your effervescence
and our ignorant brevity

I cherish being in love with you
But I don’t imagine loving you
the words are hollow
and the emotions set the tone
when I think of you
A poem inspired by a special relationship, a bond that cannot be defined
New year has its
self created effigy
Can just another day
change the way
I grow old
or get ****** in
by pharmaceutical chemicals?
Can the new year
Maneuver my life in such a way
That my increasing trauma
Of New patches of grey hair
Disappear?

What do I hope for?
When Trump gets it
And a scientist gives us just 10 years to live (now nine)
2017 is a number
And it pledges hope
That the new violence
Is comparatively acceptable
That man in Florida
At the baggage claim
Is a sweet man
He is not ISIS
We don’t talk of him much

Happy as one may be
The shades of grey
And the optimistic colors of
Yellows and magenta
Will repackage our emotions
And give us a trajectory
To go on
Nevertheless

A year that took Cohen away
Can’t be a good one
But the one that gave
A Nobel to Dylan
Makes me sulk
And sing
“Times, they are a changin'”

— The End —