Computer Messenger

Computer Messenger…

 

Banter that backfired because

literal interpretations got lost

in considered connotations,

(re-read a thousand times)

of what went way-back-when…

 

Juxtaposition of judgements.

Hastily harnessed how-comes?

Stopping me still, seriously!

Making me question us both.

My passionate banshee tears

 

initiated by tactile responses

to words type-tapped carefully.

Sometimes in casual jest to test

my reactions? Is it natural to
anticipate

disaster - dismissal and defend?

 

Not normally for me – I search

for more of your positive essence,

confirmation of my impressions.

I want you – all of you – now!

Every nuance of normality

 

shared secretly, sensually…

But other stuff too – thoughts,

reasons, why you do what you do…

I can’t ‘see’ the whole of you

touch your skin - breath you in,

 

sense your hands on my breasts

holding me, stroking me softly.

I want – I need – I crave to.

Insecurity inserts itself firmly

forcing doubt-feelings to well

 

and grow without witness,

until you answer; you calm;

you claim, cover my heart

and soul with caring,

countering concern.

 

Linger in my love,

lay there until we’re both

sweetly exhausted

by this absolute power,

this perpetual passion…

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2002