His verbal preface touched her mind like
the refreshing feeling of an intellectual conversation
With each strategically placed metaphor and simile
every stanza spoke volume and friendship turned into intimacy
Words flowed from his mouth as he whispered
every line with vivid scattered brained intensity
From a far these feelings developed
though the silence of a union disappeared quickly
With ever poem read her heart fluttered with passion
imagining his grasp and envisioning his kisses via her lust
A loyal writer and reader relationship
the acquired closeness could qualify as being “just”
From chat room admiration to following his pen
as it so elegantly glides over the page of a crisp sheet of paper….this was love
Fortunate enough to differentiate honesty from a mislead
he peppers each and every poem with a gentle fragrance reminiscent of his scent
She smiled….lost in the tomorrows of today and the yesterdays
that seems so far away
They bond and he “knows her” in a biblical sense courtesy of her dreams
webbed in fibers of diluted memories floating down a motionless stream
She tastes his flesh….
the reality in her “moment of clarity” is scary
Infatuation of the greatest sorts….in love without motive
only a collection of poetry in which she reads over and over again
indexed by the date and emotion sought
All of a sudden….the poetry stopped
No more candy rain to replace the raindrops that descend
No more pretending that each date…each phone conversation
was someone who wrote like or looked like him
No more desires to be entangled in this unimaginable love
No more post in internet forums or searching chat rooms
to rekindle the innocence of a long distant hug
Dependant upon his meaningfulness, living vicariously through
the feelings set aside for a man outside of her reach
Poetically engaged to the wisdom found in his words
she died trying to find what his poetry allowed her to seek

©Freddie Scott