Standing Aside.

Girl, hair kept long,
Flowing like a river
Over the landscape of her body
Down to her narrow ankles,
Her sturdy dancer`s feet.

Eyes, equatorial blue with longing,
Peering sadly at the grey shore
Of our northern island.
Eyes, sad oceans, deep with thwarted love.

Tonight I watch her sleeping on the sofa.
I promised her to keep watch until morning.
Perhaps she dreams that ship she often talks of,
Sailing inland seas and winding rivers
To a dark, uncharted land of broken vows,
Far darker than this loneliness that taunts me.

She has been quite distant to me since she moved in,
Arriving with her back pack and her kitten,
A frightened huddle of fur wrapped in a towel.
We have both lived lives chained to aspirations
That have dragged us far out of our comfort zones.
We thought that love is easy. It is not.

I tip toed across the room and touched her shoulder.
She protested, then curled tightly in a ball.
I had forgotten that sleep is a private space,
A Safe House with locks on every door.

Sleeping apart is not how we had planned it,
But there is a sort of fear that mimics shyness
And keeps even soul mates at arms length:
Those whom we long to love we dare not touch.

Girl, hair kept long,
Flowing like a river
Over the landscape of her body
Down to her narrow ankles,
Her sturdy dancer`s feet.

Perhaps one day we can live much simpler lives.
Quietly observing the world. Minding our own business.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
November 29th. 2016.
October 11th. - November 8th. 2017. 

This poem has been developed from an earlier work that never fully hung together. This new poem says what I was trying to express in the previous version.