Melancholy Pt: 2 — a poem about Limerance

Limerance

There’s a push to ask you for your name,

And a pull ‘cause I have no right to know,

As I stand in the corner of the venue

With nothing in my mind except the color of your eyes.

There’s a push to sift through every word

And a pull to flee from disappointment

Still I remember and I polish all your words

And call myself the author of the author of their shine.

There’s a push from my husband and he’s laughing,

And a pull from my husband ‘cause he’s scared

And I’m standing on one foot while juggling cats

And I don’t want what I want,

And I don’t want what I want.

NOTE: No husbands were harmed in the writing of this poem. Said husband says he’s merely bemused, not scared.

NOTE2: This may not be the finished work.

Published by lleachie