Mugged Myself

Douglas Silver

 

I recall the day the orchard turned grey,

Locked away in the grip of naked arms.

Pounding shots of love's nostrum;

Adrenaline with an acid twist, toadstone chased by hemlock.

Eternity's harness held for a night.

In daylight I said goodbye,

But she must have seen my

Confidence overshadowed under the sun's eye.

Held off temptation for a moon,

My thoughts blinked, my nerves ruined.

From the passenger's seat the following morn,

I called her like I'd yearned since the moment she was gone.

But her voice had left—

Or so her accomplice said.

A faceless thug ransacked what we had.

My mind bled, dripping down my tongue.

Fresh stage set as I wrapped a noose around this love.

What I thought could spawn from seeds so absorbed,

You see, she reached across the table and engaged my lips.

“You're sweet.” Her tone was natural like berries from vine.

Now, I lay awake in wonder of warmth my body's been stripped.

She was not a woman, rather

The establishment that ignored my coup.

Robbed of tomorrow, hands grasp, frantic, for today.

I gave her my identity or, perhaps, she took it away.

It should have been about two in bed,

Her head gently rests upon my chest as

We dream the same.

A night's gift and a year's curse;

A beauty who knew her look,

What her arms possessed, her mind forsook.

She melted bone to butter, all slights healed in her hands.

Both of us discovered new land, yet one left stranded.

She may always picture a piece of me crawling toward bliss,

Though her heart will forever lay virginal;

Feeling will never penetrate her kiss.