I could act like I don’t care-
this could be wise
put your mind to work
covering up your footsteps
your while’s and desires;
oh bothersome life!
I could put my mouth to work-
bullshitting out pellets of fire
that burn away this desire;
desire that has crept ever
so slowly, so cautiously from
beneath its’ cool resting place
crept,
after the squelching fire you have
so bravely walked through
this burning hell-pain of lost love,
lost desire, left lonely and lamed.
I could after all, pretend
pretend I am still in this
quagmire of pain, or
I could run straight into the heat,
the heat of this desire I feel, to be true,
to be real
to be alive!
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Ashutosh Sonwani from Pexels

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