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His Existence http://contributor.yahoo.com/user/1097937/toletha_j_dixon.htmlhttp://contributor.yahoo.com/user/1097937/toletha_j_dixon.html Toletha J. Dixon The room stood still as he walked in only not to look at me. Only to look away at others who passed him; others who see what I see and knows what he doesn't. There I sat waiting for him to turn to me, but he simply walked further away. If only he would say something to me. If only he could let me see what he sees? I watch him for days only hoping he was visioning the minor thought of love for me. In my mind I gave him all of me. In my mouth I only spoke his existence. Emit of continuous imagery. My heart pound faster as the distance between us seemed like the ocean from a whale caught in a man's cave. He stops. I could almost smell his breathe. Almost taste his skin. Almost scent his hair. However, he's not turning for me. His considerations are not mines. His heart isn't beating on the same beat. My being means nonentity to him. His considerations are not defined by the color that makes me. My heart does the pounding for a man that can only see me as a blind reflection. As I in the world, is a speck of sand on a beach. Who am I to challenge my worth to a man who has it all? Whose heart is provided by nothing but wealth and driven dreams? Yet he stands alone in this room. Turn around and see me. See my existence. See my heart through my eyes and my smile that only brightens when he is around; when he stands in my occurrence of loneliness that only strengthens when we stand in the circle of my small world. Though I can say that I am not alone, I am not alone with the existence of another. Yet my heart screams for this man, this man that blows a storm within my darkened orb of trickery and denial. He's coming! Nearer and nearer, his shadows glide towards me. Does he see me? Does he smell me? Does he taste my verve? I can only close my eyes and wonder what it would be like to have him over me with strength of compassion and want. Say hello in not my eyes, but his. Oh hear the song that dances within our deserted street, the road of you, and me. But the road beneath me cracks. It shakes and bends in positions of foreign manner. My eyes open to see the storm that propelled between my aspiration and dreams. Where are you now my love? Where are you in this room of failure and confusion? Sickened to my stomach, I only turn to leave this span. To loosen what held me in twinge and apprehension. But my legs would neither move nor my body. Something or someone kept me there; power of rationalization or lies. But it wasn't him. He ventured off my road. And now my existence will never be cured or freed of curiosity and love.
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This is poetry of a dreamed love for someone who doesn't know of that love.
5/13/2012 12:47 PM
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