Love Seasons...

                   you allow me inside to share your art
                             sealed within subtle shades of you…
                   stainless mesh alongside serrated and lethal knives;
                             bountiful counters and wooden accoutrements…
                   there is steam, heat and hearty conversation          
                             as you wield words as carefully as
                   you carve and chop against the grain…
                   i listen to each word, examining it
                             for hidden meaning,
                   innuendo or surprise…
                             but there is little subterfuge—
                   just careful honesty and
                             cautious optimism…
                   as i observe your painstaking preparations,          
                             your slow and hesitant advances toward me,
                   always sensitive, yet, unendingly sensual,
                             i find my capacity to trust enlarge,
                   sensing a depth never felt before
                             inside your invitation to partake…
                   often i feel consumed by my feelings for you…
                             stilled and silenced by my need to be with you—
                   at times filled with desperate longing and dreams of endless
                             kisses and nights nestled in your arms…
                   within the confines of our narrow world,
                             no one could love you more…
                i realize this longing is mine alone …
                             that i cannot fathom your secret soul or your
                   grasp of this fragile reality…
                             if i discover that i shall never belong in your world
              or any sphere that matters to the heart…
                             then this last door will be closed forever…
                   the interim is marked with pain and uncertainty
                             as i await the inevitable;
                   anticipating the slow silence piercing the intimacy of our
                             diluted conversation
                   as you defy the rhythm of our dance and override
                             my love with caution…
                   will your inexplicable movement usher me
                             toward the exit?
                   out into the cold where the biting wind                    
                             chills the blood on my lips…                    
                   or will you take me inside and let me
                             sit at your table forever?

by ja allen