THE PHANTOM LOVER
It happened at a time
When I desired to be possessed,
A victim of the Venus Fly-Trap Syndrome.
After our first night together,
You sent two dozen roses,
With a card that said my skin was like
The softness of the petals.
I couldn't understand, quite, why you needed me.
Other men had, of course,
But they had known my nature first--
My compulsion to be compassionate and helpful--
While you I had seen only twice in company of friends.
Alone, you caught me in the hall,
And kissed me with an urgency
I'd not expected in a man
So settled and so seemingly secure.
For those three weeks, I dressed in lace,
Because you asked me to.
Sipped brandy on your balcony--
Absorbed the evening's fragrance from Jackson Square
above the Vieux Carre--
Took walks with you in St. Louis Cemetery.
I thought you such a gentleman--
You never pressed me to make love the way that others had.
I must admit you would have been successful.
You said that twice you'd tried to die, and that I gave you
something sweet to live for.
You also said that when we'd wed
You would express your passion in delicious, wicked ways.
And so, because you seemed so sure,
I took the ring you offered,
Desperate to keep the pleasure of your lips and arms and eyes.
But you weren't real.
The stories you had told me of your background and your life
I found weren't true.
And when I asked you why you'd had to lie,
You didn't even answer.
You simply raised an eyebrow, stood,
And walked from the cafe.
I tried to phone, but you were never in,
or so your butler said.
And so for these two silent years I've lived with subtle questions.
Last week I saw you walking in the Quarter,
Your arm around another tender lover--
You looked into his eyes adoringly.
And then at last I understood
Why you had needed me. |
