My Love
My love, your mystery has never ceased to bother me
with its consummate irreproachability
combined with unapproachability
and all ideal traits of a woman,
not just beauty of both soul and body
but above all an astounding comfortableness,
since you have never made demands,
you never asked me for gratification,
never wanted money or my property,
always left me to my freedom and alone when needed,
while the only thing you wanted me to give was time
for you and for our love, which I most willingly bestowed,
since that was all you asked for.
Maybe that's the most important thing a man can give a woman,
while in our present world of stress and lack of time
that's also the most difficult of things to offer,
which is a most shameful sign of the condition
of our world today: when we can't give
what's most essential between man and woman to bestow.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2016-05-01 at 19:23
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Kathy Lockhart |
