Brian’sPoems

Confession

Nail bitin’ but the hands don’t look too shabby. On the wrist is wet leather and what remains of the bamboo strap. He doesn’t feel like doing this except when he’s in love. Actually, he’s never been in love - lust mostly. (The NASA pen is working furiously now!) And the one time he broke a girl’s heart still causes that sinking feeling and a quiet rage. He was barely a man and not in love. She, a handsome and generally kind-hearted woman, was never idle in searching...a man always on her horizon. She worked in the forest setting traps. I don’t think she meant to keep him, but sometimes you’re not sure what you’ve caught. He was stunned, and in idle times a willing captive. Call her Dido, for there was no chance of togetherness. Let the similarities stop there. He so badly wanted to feel something. She longed for the longing of a man. No sooner than a beginning’s end they parted. Her punishment was a scorned love. His punishment a shame turned inward and aimless searching.