Love is never one piece, it’s always many pieces often as a puzzle many pieces the table with hands delicate ..thought, time, gentleness, and caring as love ..piece by piece soon a beautiful and lovely picture!
Relationships hard to number
kisses her lips so many
hands rough she couldn’t utter
seemingly ravaging a body tender
each tear, each time ..maybe him her lover
yet just a man no better than the other
with her to steal, not her heart, not her hand
her love was becoming a revolving door
as she wondered if love, and if love a man?
Hurt seemed as natural as a meal
fed up with heart-break
malnourished with men who couldn’t feel
never able to feed her heart nothing but a mistake
her flesh they eat as vultures
leaving her with crumbs of wanted love
filling their desires of fleshly hunger
while they could care less her inner want
left her starved plenty, love hardly any!
So many in and out her heart
seemed as if now that door left open
breeze of so many loves she became cold and hard
like water rippled by wind cold soon frozen
Love now as a fading memory
distorted and weathered as love’s savagery it’s toll
her feelings tossed about, leaving misery
she wondered if ever hands of love know
as hands a body after a bath, love massage her heart for once plenty?
One day after groceries few, much needed
leaving the door caught her arm dropping some
then a voice so gentle and kind she heeded
“may I help you please, to barge I’m not one
none of my business but to help most humbly obliged”
without hands groping, without an ulterior motive
she felt something, flesh not required
words sincere between the two soon known
finally love ..her heart plenty, now a relationship more than many!
Poetry