More Than a Lover's Quarrel
We, savages to our desires,
chained, lips torch, spew fire.
Our contorted faces, vengeful words,
secret hiding places, strike fear.
Prisoners of paisley pasts,
expectations cling
evermore, our broken hearts
kindle flames of passion
in love and war.
I rest in our sweeter hours -
orange blossoms, tender vines touched,
tangled flush of skin warmed soft in breath.
Gentle winds passed through my pores
in our thriving, blushing
flower garden of summer light.
Charms adorned, seduction worn,
a rush of ecstasy -
you and I,
hands in earth,
nurturing our love
in full bloom.
I remember splash of golden sun
on hottest days
and blazing dark-winged sky
of ardent nights.
Never, never could I forget.
Now, we bury ourselves deep,
dried up in bitter weeds of neglected, barren soil.
Recoiled in contempt, we ache for forgiveness
as our weary souls weep
behind dry eyes
filled with icy rage.
Is love enough to break
our chains of jealousy, our suspicion, our lies?
When you’re alone,
I wonder, do you cry?
I do...I wade in my lonely tears.
When I'm alone, I weep for you.
Tomorrow, I will lay down my weapons for you,
tend once again to our delicate blooms.
I beg you to search your heart,
find within our maze of destructive days,
our greenest paths, time renewed
in clouds of rain to nourish love again.
I beg you to open your wilted blooms to a healing sun.
I still hold steady to lost petals of you and I.
I believe in us.
I pray for the heavy air between us
to lift until still,
and I pray you love me still.
Written 3/6/17 for Lover's Quarrel Contest
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2017
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