I.
So amazed I find myself
At how little we’re willing to settle for
When what we dream of
Is far from our grasp…
Can what we want
And what we have
Ever reconcile themselves?
Or will they remain as aloof neighbors,
Nodding in recognition only when the mood strikes
Or when it becomes uncomfortably unavoidable,
Seemingly safer to pretend the two extremes
Never meet on common ground?
II.
I wanted to be his lover
I settle for being his whore
The other woman
Instead of the only
An evening of passion followed by
An afternoon of distant social pleasantries
In the presence of those who don’t need to know…
Should I be sad that the discomfort no longer
Disorients me?
Content in having the stolen, the profane
Rather than the sacred
Of which I dreamt with innocent intention.
Instead of his holy relic
I am his greatest shame.
Instead of my sanctified high priest,
He joins me in hypocrisy
In my vestibule of sacred space
Behind the backs of all the pious parishioners
Who confess their sins to his ears and mine.
III.
If it is a sin, then let me sin!
If I burn in the next life as I burn in this one
Well…
At least the sensation will not be an unfamiliar one.