What Was the Feeling of Her?

Standard

her jeweled hair
the way she’d speak
you wanted her on the floor
pressed against you, holding
how you’d do it
even in your dream you denied
it said to hell with that
but now you wish you hadn’t
she was cold ice white
her lacy face
why couldn’t she be yours

and why weren’t you jealous of her
almost lover
why weren’t you terrified
when he was in the room
why didn’t you shirk
whenever he said hello
and why didn’t you search her out
in the room,
why did you just stay put
thinking
she’s the kind of girl i’d like to
kiss?

thinking about laying in the fields together
the rides together
the long hours together
and her voice
her voice that could read you
poetry
how could you make it through the day
and barely see her
frittering your last moments
with her off,
sharing you her poetry

gleaming when she didn’t scoff
how she’d gently caressed your knuckles
and it felt like a butterfly’s moon kiss
and you stayed in silent awe, observing without her gaze
and sometimes,
you’d hide tears when she’d tell you how wonderful you were.

why did you confide in her a friend?
why did you care so little?
what was the feeling, really?

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry

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