Poems : WIP

On Threads : I am bored ( reading about computer networking ). So the following posts may contain poetry. Please do NOT report all my posts for "send help" kthx

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I miss young love, there was one who loved, not me, but the world, and I was part of that world that passed before her, and we knew each other, there was hardly sex, mainly wonder, and feeling, in her, and in I only a gracious participation in what I did not design.

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I miss love worn thin, there was one who loved, not me, but themself, and I played to the script of their life, and wove my steps into their waning curiosity, and we wore upon each other, the fleeting hours of souls that had other things to do.

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I miss shy love, there was one who loved, not me, but another, and I was all they had to hold, and strip, and suck, consumed, but hardly satisfying, and I could not become the one who wasn't there, and then we were also not.

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I miss sad love, there was one who had lost, but could not find it in themselves to accept the ordinary circumstances of loss, and so we briefly touched upon our common abnormalities, and without compassion, we each saddened ourselves in separate ways, together.

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I miss quiet love, there was one who found me in the space where stories are told and dreams are sold, and for a time we fell beside each other, but without any common equity, we busied ourselves with other loves and solitude.

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I miss distant love, there was one who came to see me, and then I to see her, and then the word fell apart, and we came to see others, but once upon a time, we saw again each other, and now we see others, till another time. ---

I miss simple love, there was one who lived beside me, and without others to love we came to keep each other, when we were close, we would simply wonder what we were to do with each other.

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I miss loud love, there was one who didn't cry, but rather raged, in fits of endless soliloquy, about the brokenness of our spheres and the breakers who would torment them in their sleep, I could only weep, dry tears, and rescind myself.

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I miss mellowed love, there was one who had their share of many, and of more than could possibly be in the days we spent together, and yet they welcomed me as part of their delight, in the endless acceptance of what was not absolutely fitting to be.

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I miss spurned love, there was one who wrought the world in their way, with attention to powers that were, and the horror of daring to do what they sought in a city that could never give them more than what they made, on their own, with their negligent lovers.

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Of all the loves I miss, I miss having a clear view of what I want to know about the world, so I am going back to read now, computer networking.