dormant love

before the darkness drops its drapes

I pour out all your inner charm on my dining room table

it is made

of your soft, seemingly unmanly voice

lack of temper and wavering gait

like a cowboy who just jumped off his horse;

I would like to devour you whole

as if you were

a roasted pigeon that, dismayed

with the amount of verbal abuse

managed to fall into the wrong hands;

I have you within me

I wouldn’t dare to deal

with a specific allocation to one place

of my body

where you were and where you weren’t;

like a dormant volcano from primary school

you awakened all the deepest feelings in me

those forgotten and always pushed

into the darkest and dirtiest corners of my brain

now fully explained

to me through your generous heart

is it finally open yet?

time has shown that this will never be the case

and surprisingly even for me, it didn’t make me

a weeping willow

but a river of relief

flowing with greater force

than ever before

thanks to your unrelenting meanness