What, This Man?

Jenia Silver
Question bleaking, a part of his tone , body peaking.
Rythm broken- Pockets dropping!
Smothe black skin shimmering- sweet lavender scent weaning.

Rain drops hit my window late this afternoon, of my downtown flat of Sin City.
This man, I write of is so pretty-
Gone is he to his parcell, lot or tree..

I ask myself - If he were a dog, would he chase a cat to a tree?
Of course- he is not this, not an animal.
So what has he chased, ran after, or ran away?

Over a year's time has passed;
I've known him little. At moments, all it is is tiny moments to be with him.
I leered at him lesser now, now that stays a distance.

A quick treat I take; to hold thought upon his loving ways.
Other postures remain as do a daze- is he lonliy or
a coward scouring in hidden guided ways?

A loud tone screaming, and betraying he let out to frighten me- shaking me away-
and since we have missed
all lovers snuggles in bed to hug and kiss.

Calls of telephone nonsense ramble about jargons.
Hurrying his taxi left and right- i ponder which angle
has he turned to or positioned- in cheap casino signs.

Beauty in a unique matter desires each soul.
So for who can please what screaches in his bleakest,
narrow sought, shanty of manliness he holds?

Peering ot, as grabbing a bus- the month was cold- I was bundled..
driving by in a fancy wagon/ a man of his profile.
Alone not, he was escorted by an asian lady.

Need I write more? Each day I capture something- of more of my ten digits scanter..
Is he a devil/ A cheat... Scandelous and clad...
Or humerous/ An angle- heaven sent and a bit drab but marvelos?

Published by Jenia Silver

I was raised in North Texas. Lived in Las Vegas,NV for five years. Visited the great hippie state of Cali last year, which gave me great resource on writing local stories there. I have been writing for tw...  View profile

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