The longing intensifies
and I am certain
I am growing —
more insane.
How to tell them
this Love of You,
this Mystic Ether
that floats me to You,
like a rose petal on water —
How to tell them
that Here in You is Heaven
and if this is Dying
I am unafraid.
But this Living —
with one foot in the Earth
and one foot in God’s Heart —
Straddling Eternity
is growing difficult.
Where would you plant me,
Soul-seed longing for Union;
where, Beloved, will this Flower bloom?
Want Explained ~for Rob
I do not want to be on a pedestal
to fall from
my feet slipping
into stepping on your heart.
I do not want to be a muse
adored and believed
to hold magic answers to questions
my answers
can never satisfy.
I do not want to be a fever
of passion that burns in you
the flame dying down, flickering out
as time — age passes
leaving only embers of a dying fire.
I do not want to be a need
only to fill you for a time
the stomach, once full,
unable to hold more
is satisfied and the plate pushed away.
I want to be a river
you fish in, wade in, wash in, travel down —
I would be water that carries you with it,
moving forward
toward a never-ending sea.
Perfect new paint shines —
covers your body like silk
sheets pulled perfectly tight
across a lovely queen bed.
The scent of new glistens
where leather skin stretches
taught across seat backs
and arms. You could be held
by a graying lover or a fresh-
faced man-child out for
a first fast ride. You
like the cool room
of glass windows, waxed tile;
equally like the heat
of street and pavement waiting
outside for your display. You
acquiesce easily, push a button,
turn a key, roll forward.
Never complaining about
what you didn’t become,
unaware of what you are…
pretty painted machine without
sentience.
September 2010
Marissa Colleen Mullins 