FMS Pictures & Poetry

You each had your moment
And I remember your kisses;
Each proclamation of adoration
That I willingly returned
And that, at the time of my passing
(As might be recorded
In the pocket-book of some
Mid-ranking officer),
I wish to draw in tears
Or as a lasting epitaph –
Insincere verse punctuated with
The desperate, pathetic gravity
Of a true sense of loss and regret,
As if quoted from the scribbling
Of another frantic gambler
Writing out one more I.O.U.
In the blood of his very own kinsmen
After a single wager too many.

Perhaps it could be noted
That it all meant so much
For a time :
Somewhere between missing her
And missing you.
Or just missing the focus,
The sharpening of senses of
Sight and smell and touch…
Clumsily stroking with hands and lips -
Kisses that drown out the bustle
Of another otherwise unremarkable night
Where we conduct our very own romance
Barely noticing the disgusted glances
Or the sarcastic gestures that advise us
To ‘get a room’.
But we had nothing to hide,
From each other at least,
We knew where the line would be drawn.
I saw it in your eyes
And your words tell it still,
Although shielded by lies of pride.