the mistress
here’s a poem i wrote when i was fourteen. it was summer and we were having a training for KNN and we stayed for a week at the Astoria Plaza. the hotel’s bar inspired me to make this poem. it really did! i went up my room immediately and started writing!
the periods mean paragraph breaks, btw.
so, here it is…
.
.
.
.
.
mistress at the cafe
.
stirring my coffee…
tapping my feet…
practicing a line i would use
to lure you into my trap
.
just a night
another night -
like the many we had before,
i would have you within my grasp
we could cease our masquerade,
our struggle for anonymity,
and amalagamate
our realities and fantasies
as you drag me into a blinding epiphany
come midnight
.
while i have you,
let me tell your stories
a hundred years old
question me with your tender, loving lips.
pull me into memories
that we will throw into oblivion,
seal it with your soft, addicting kiss
.
at dusk you shall leave me
the world shall have its turn
with this game, my love,
i don’t have much of a choice
.
and all i can do is think of you constantly
talk of you in codes
to fill this void, this nothingness
you chained me with
.
until your return,
i imagine you laughing with her,
walking hand-in-hand with her,
telling her stories
a hundred years old
.
another week has passed,
i am again at the cafe -
stirring my coffee…
tapping my feet…
waiting for my love
that can never be mine.
