Jazz smoke thickened the atmosphere
Laughter, alcohol and pheromones
proved apt partners for the excitement and awkwardness
of acting in front of strangers and only slightly less strange comrades.
Stealing glances with the individual who netted my attention.
We are reinvented in my mind…
We converse
And through this all probable futures appear…
Acting as chips in a poker game
black, red and white Queens and Jacks
all in a house of cards
awaiting the wind of Kismet to shape their destiny.
Sitting amongst acquaintances
I spotted an individual that
On appearances alone
Seemed so remarkable as to cause my pulse to quicken
Virile was the first and only attribute
upon which I could bestow this tempest.
All others, though the stuffs of impassioned fantasy,
came to mind and were the thickeners
to the sensuous stews brewing therein.
My mind gave birth to base and brute acts
which given the opportunity
brought no fear of diminished reality…if…
on no uncertain terms I knew the act would be rewarding…
just as I knew it would be subject to
costly punishment… guilt unfettered.
A few thoughts on lamented love and lustful passions…
a change comes over the one I watch when
they suspect know their efforts will be fruitful…
A glazed and compassion-less expression
crosses their face, like an aimless warrior’s haze
and I find I don’t know them anymore…
perhaps I never did…except for the fragmented image created in my mind
with smoke and music.
“Could any stronger emotion grow for such a face?”, I wonder
The person remains
fathomless.
But I suspect they have a countenance not for love but merely and thoroughly... lust.
When asked what I wanted, I replied
“I want more than anything to overcome my attraction to you and become your friend,”
Continuing in my thoughts…
“…for upon that at least one might reasonably depend. As a fiend you would more easily be forgiven for not meeting my expectations, then as a lover, for spurned my passion would curdle.”
Duality set in
Evident in the divergent personalities doing battle through desires, morals and experience.
All elements playing a cutthroat no-holds-bond game of King of the Mountain…
The right, the power, to control my actions…
A high note crescendos and the smoke thickens
“Hit me again” I say…
The cards played…the ritual begins.
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