Poetry Monday — Words Like Beautiful

Robin told a href=”http://creativegoddesses.blogspot.com”Rhian/a to declare today to be Poetry Monday (or something like that), so here’s my contribution.

If I could write our story,
words like “beautiful”
wouldn’t exist.

We would have all the time
we could ever want;
No fears of getting
too attached,
of needing to define the rules,
of clinging to mind games,
only to see me leave you for a new life,
a life without you
except for far-between weekend visits.

And you wouldn’t tell me –
your arms around my waist,
me perched on the tops of your feet
but my chin still no higher than
the middle of your chest –
that when you look at her,
all you see is beauty.

And that’s the one thing I can’t offer you.
Or so you say.

.
If I could write our story, Mario dear,
there wouldn’t be such a gap between us –
not that height matters,
not that money matters,
not that age matters,
but it’s all about living.

You would understand about relationships-
that women are best when they are both
girlfriends and friends,
and that you can have the second,
without the first.

And I would understand about you –
your fragile ego,
your need to be a man, not a boy,
your thoughts,
your wants;
And all the potential that I see so clearly in you now
would be realized.

I promise you that if I could write this story,
That’s how it would be.

.
Remember, though,
that there are things I could never change
in this fiction I long to write:
The planes and angles
that make up your face
and cause something inside me
to catch, then melt —
even though I mean it when I say
that beauty’s far from everything.

There’s the gentle way you kiss;
and your hands so soft and ghostlike
that after your touch,
even a whisper feels harsh;

You say I am not beautiful
but still,
you make me believe
you’d never hurt me –
that’s what you promised.
Isn’t it?

.
So if I could write our ending,
it would happen on the ice –
in the middle of a hockey game –
and you would realize this:

That we are comfortable together,
and that the beauty of our friendship
is what matters,
not how beautiful you or I appear
when we look at each other.

And one day you will realize —
I guarantee you will,
even if I don’t write this story —
that this is the the kind of beauty –
the only kind –
that I will ever have to offer you.

.
If I could write our story,
it would be enough.

**
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