heinel: (Default)
[personal profile] heinel
It is again Wednesday night,
our meeting 4pm.
The time is just right for another
hot mug with a diadem.

As usual I sit beside you.
I like your attention.
The fragrance of this coffee is dark.
I'm lost in confusion.

I find I'm drawn to your aroma –
powerful sensation.
The color of this coffee is deep.
I fall in elation.

I sense your brown eyes on me but
never meeting my own.
My coffee swirls around and around,
I fear I'm in delusion.

And why are your words to me sparse,
diplomat well-known?
The taste of this coffee is stark.
I drink in bitter passion.

So come the dreaded 6:40,
our timed depart again.
I leave the class, my thoughts empty,
empty mug in hand.


Afterthoughts...

Ever since I was young I had been dismissive of my emotions. However, I think I am fortunate to have found writing as an outlet. Things that I cannot say, I can still express in words. I think writing my thoughts out helps me focus on them. I am actually quite surprised at being able to write a poem like this, as I had always been known to be quite apathetic.
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heinel: (Default)
heinel

April 2010

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