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Victoria Maretti Jun 2013
When we decided on ice cream
I suggested caramel
sticky sweet
dripping down the sides
I wanted to lick it up and
feel the sucrose explode on my tastebuds
a minefield of pleasure.

When we decided on ice cream
you promised whipped topping
and hot fudge
rich luscious chocolate
oozing toward the edges
swirls of dark intensity
intermixed with bouts of airy lightness
a most delightful contradiction.

With all the imagery that’s found in words
and pictures bound to play out in my head
It’s fair to say this sundae tempted me at waking hours
(and maybe even crept into my dreams)

… it’s quite a shame that in the end you settled for vanilla.
Victoria Maretti Jun 2013
Whisper
Drop peonies in my eardrums
Sew violets under my skin
Take all my fragrance in and
Exhale
Pave a path of fuchsia petals
We’ll share baths with chrysanthemums, lilies, hydrangeas
And crown ourselves in wreaths of all the roses.
Victoria Maretti Jun 2013
Romance makes me think of you
a soft breeze summons me to sigh
Other couples’ fingers intertwined
Laced with passion that subsides
Contentment in companionship
Just being by their side—
I know a man is not the source of happiness
There’s much richness that this world can bring
Please know I’m quite multi-dimensional
But goodness, how you cause my heart to sing.
Victoria Maretti Jun 2013
Your soul is incendiary
Grappling with darkness
whose inky-black hands long for flames of life.

Raw power
which does not know its strength
soft smoldering embers leap up into light.

Deny it, please, I dare you.
Insist you’re nothing more than chilly blank obsidian.

Tell me how I must be wrong;
I’ll strike up a match.

So then we’ll both ignite—
Best to burn alive
than melt away in ice.
Victoria Maretti Jun 2013
It wasn’t planned; it seems like much now.
Locking my Self under ******* of “I should”
forced behind the delicately crafted (false) design
of sincere yearning
I’m so glad I have not destroyed potential
by chasing after cries of heart.
And settling in the Remnants of aftermath—
I question whether there will be rebirth.
Victoria Maretti May 2013
At first,
Love was captivating.
a beckoning temptress
with lips whispering compliments
and desires and promises.

And then,
Love was unbridled.
a stallion galloping across terrain
the wind in his mane
vivacious and carefree.

At times,
Love was insecure.
spilling tears and confessions
fearing scorn or withdrawal
twisting with pain.

Of course,
Love was confident.
beaming with adoration:
ostentatious jubilance or
a quiet security.

Strangely,
Love was alone.
ripening and explorative
discovering the importance of
Self before other.


Perhaps there’s no one True set definition
and those who try
to grasp for dictionary restrictions
ultimately fail.
Victoria Maretti May 2013
Why do I give kisses to those who
turn and go?
How can I be so superior
and share it all with someone who discards me?
My pride:
so tied to
a number.
Dot your i’s and cross your t’s
No one else thinks of your tallies
(you know I hate misplaced apostrophes)
What’s a score board?
Where’s the line to “*****”
Especially when I’ve already whispered fantasies
and profanities to the one who thinks he knows
…and held my secrets…
and glimpsed my soul—-
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