walls and the wounded, come down (a safe place to surrender and drown)

there is no pleasing
those who can't be pleased
there is only teasing,
those who live for "the tease"

as in taunt and provoke
for the reaction they seek
why is it to be vulnerable, of heart
is always seen as pliable and weak

manipulate,
covers woman and man
stand up, stand strong,
stand "something",
just stand

as in take one, now
or take a seat
be destined for a life
on perpetual repeat..

mistakes, like maulings
unheeded callings
to walk, a different path,
your own
be care, the lustful longings,
deep moans

the crevices, cracks
in your psycho-sexual pavement
to crawl on all fours
there is a high price, taxed payment

taxing all your reserves, your energy
you'd yes, sell your soul
for "the one", psychic synergy

that manifests magic,
seeps madness, the same
the tragedy, knowing it's out there
and just maybe,
even knowing his name

no shame, no blame
an end to the endless, infinite
passive aggressive,
"line reading" games

as in reading between lines,
are they there?
unfortunate, the power games played
always one left standing
over another, stripped bare

pathologies played out
crossing boundaries, each others place
amongst the sun, a sea of stars
you'd give anything,
his trusted face

for whom real belong
is no longer a matter of
"pray, pine for, and long"
it just is, found reality
the gift, the gold
in each other's arms,
soul strong

both seen, both actualized
naked limbs and love soaked eyes
this isn't an auction, for charity, prized
no "highest bidder", for the bitter,
despised

this is the universe aligning
and aligning, for good
two hearts, not carved,
not manufactured, of wood

not fabricated for the forcing,
another
to play out pathologies
predicated on the preying of others

it seems we all are slaves
to each others' misbegotten ways
the lover loves
and the player plays

sick and saddened,
slain by the game
just deliver me, desire less
then, if all "this" is about,
the need to control, without soul
and to maim, swells of shame

reciprocation
is right, like release
of all the wrongs
we've been wronged by,
the sheets

laid upon and laid down,
for "the using",
prettier, in the pink than the blue
and black, of the mind fuck,
the "capture/kill", bruising

purity is without motive, ulterior
no hidden agenda's
beneath the exterior
of a beautiful face
you cannot seem to forget, erase

for whom no one else
can take his place
to be seen, in equal
the film in final, no need, thought, sequel

you'd surrender it all,
for this realization,
"home",
the engulfing, electric
faultless, flawed, pure

embrace.

a safe place to surrender and drown
and somewhere, in secret
you feel as though...you've been found.

(in him)....


bowen hart roselli
21 july 2020
ringwald love