he lost twenty years
walked the walk and talked the talk
mornings warm, close body heat reach out and stroke his dark silky hair rich scents male and strong so near, everywhere no deep prophetic dreams for me dreams lost, dreams found, lost again vacant dreams unfulfilled yearned for, yet lost counterfeit is time the enemy of love it gives you bites, tenuous at best tastes of happiness, of fulfillment small morsels wiped clean of all the crumbs treasure left on table tops for all and any to pocket did they have value? did they shine and shimmer? or were they the same for twenty years fools gold gilded and vibrant to hold, is to feel it's heft to dream its riches yet have not one cent fools its called because in the end that is all you are every golden second spent on dreams of happiness days, hours, minutes forfeit never to be regained tears lost spilled and wasted running on sand, walking for miles words dry as the shells cast from the sea and tossed on the shore pecked and prodded by powerful gulls sweet splendid innocence you fool you gold you glimmer and shine so much present you believed you hoped you dreamed you clung, grabbed, held, trusted yet never for one second were you more than fantasy of what had importance what could have been total what joy and bliss wasted on time spent panning for fools gold finding chunks taken to your heart carefully placed inside enfolded loved, loving, love believing that they were of merit, of purpose authentic yet days and weeks and years lost in pursuit of shallow happiness his lies, his love, his kisses all without honesty gone, wasted now twenty years have escaped from the cage and flown and what exists now, piles of memories of lies and long forgotten thought wishes and loves held tightly seductive kisses on necks all dreams and illusions of sharing, caring, loving, longing, lacking, waiting words spoken delusion shared all hollow and barren painful twenty years how you slap your owners face with lines and faults and cracks and scars of emptiness and empty beds empty sofas, tables for one once we sat together, we laughed, we held hands we snuck kisses behind menus proudly loving the love of love darkened places passion wet with kisses planted upon dampened skin hours spent navigating his torso
as explorers, we planted our flags on uncharted lands was it real? was any of it real? the scent of his hair on the pillow was it days or hours, you roll over and engulf it inhale him as if real it is not but a memory of a lost longing twenty years painful reminder of endings every day, every second closer but without love does it matter? how long till the clock needs to rewind do we have 30 days or 30 seconds after twenty years it matters not he was, he was not, he was he was not he was not tony scarpa
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