Conversations of Love

Love tormented me as a child.

An odd thing to admit.

To feel its absence at such a young age.

But there it is. Secret’s out.

I yearned for the real thing,

staring through the rails of my crib -

searching.

.

Watching the clouds move from my vantage point

surrounded by the soft cushions of my carriage.

Hearing voices above directed elsewhere, with

adults hovering and peeking inside, smiling,

like they would, admiring a dolphin at Sea World.

.

“Does he talk yet?” At five months old?

Yes, he quotes Shakespeare and Shelley

and keeps track of my shopping at

the A & P - he’s a whiz with math.

.

I wanted conversation and acknowledgment.

Damn, the lips if they couldn’t express

what was in my head. Damn the Soaps that

Mother watched, me propped up cooing

and failing to compete.

.

I wanted love in myriad colors. Blue to

assuage the sadness of a previous life gone.

Red so anger had a flag it could charge.

Yellow, like the sun, the flowers in the

front yard. The new Buick in the neighbor’s

driveway, that I was rolled past each morning.

.

Love to me were words and admiration.

A gentle nod to the little chap for hanging in there.

Being wise while being small.

Not fussing, not fighting, getting good

marks in school. Looking both ways at the light.

Praying with hands neatly clasped at mass,

heart fluttering with concern - am I already a fucking sinner?

.

Love tormented me as I grew older.

The years passing, the heart uncomfortable,

as others, still young seemed drawn to it -

like a bloody heat-seeking missile. And me -

watching and taking note - must look suave.

.

I wanted love to find me. To knock

on my door, drop a note through the mail slot,

Christ anything but the angst roiling in

the streets like an Ingmar Bergman movie.

Even at fifteen, I knew what it wasn’t.

.

Soft to the touch. Flesh warm and volatile.

Heart beating against breast. Loins aching

in pulses like some distant quasar - lighting

my universe. Sending me to the ER for

resuscitation.

.

I wanted absolution before the sin.

Expiation for what I had yet to do.

A priest, a wizard’s blessing, a saintly nod that

what I envisioned was okay - go ahead.

Commit the unthinkable - love with

absolute abandon - all in - every cell

giving its all.

.

Lose yourself in the moment - each

And every day.

.

Love tormented me as a child. Then I grew

Into an adult, grasped its pretty

face kissed its lips, and on its altar -

sacrificed myself.