Amy Barry

I wish…
I wish…
I wish…
I could bury in finality,
a lingering pain,
deep in the Pacific Ocean.
I wish…
I wish…
I wish…
I knelt,
pleaded for the frenzied rain
to drown my maddening thirst
and swirling ache for you,
for this fiery tempest,
inscrutable,
irresistible,
that shawled my heart,
caped my mind,
clambered my soul,
spiraled,
stifled every fiber in my body
ingrained
like a wild riot
of the vainglorious thorny Black Rose.

In the smooth blackness
of the sky,
ten thousand stars
sparkle and dance,
every inch of her skin
comes alive,
curiosity hones,
tempts heights of passion
into pools of dazed wonder,
mad, marrow-deep longings
linger, her heart cradles
a new affection.

Case filled,
buckles snapped shut,
stepping out into the lonely road.

Sitting on the edge of the bed
of a distant hotel,
pausing to gain a moment’s composure,
you invade every crevice of my life,
my dreams, my bed
even my body.
Yet, the secret parts of you
remain mysterious,
as if they belong to another world.
Like everyone else,
I’m trundling along
doing the best
to be happy,
to get the most out of life.
A waft of lemon scent comes to me,
a rare but familiar smell.
I picture you at the door.