No Ordinary Love

Have you ever been flying in a dream,

Only, like Icarus,

Find yourself flying too close to the sun,

Wings unglued, undone,

Falling fast and free toward the ground?

Like I am now,

Beat up by the annulment

Of my two greatest desires,

Love, requited, as by my lover and wife to be,

And for the love of my child,

Purported, distorted and now, like me,

Abandoned.

 

That my dear girl,

Muse,

Is how I feel now,

Enraptured by a thought conceived,

At the moment of my conception,

Hopefully leading to a reality believed,

And then lived,

With you,

Muse.

 

For in the invitation of your smile,

I like Romeo, and you, like Juliet,

I would rather die than be without you,

Can you understand?

Will you?

Nor can I, for there is no reason,

Save those that express themselves here,

Logic,

Like a machine gun in affairs of the heart,

Where this soul bleeds missives,

Longing and desire in the trench warfare of sensations so rare,

They must not,

Not,

Be ignored,

Confused, or otherwise,

In true love,

Resistance is futile,

And this is true isn’t it?

 

Should these clever words not reveal,

The eaten core,

Of the battered history of this wounded heart,

Lets we, start anew,

Today a new beginning,

Filled with all the hope and promise we both know is real,

Genuine,

In the clever pursuit of each other,

Overcoming all obstacles,

Muse,

To disclose this mask of sorrow,

That would readily disappear tomorrow,

Should you find the conviction,

Inside these dictions,

To return,

To,

Sender.

 

Is this what happened?

Happens?

To those fabled men? Histories giants?

Captivated by those women who immediately owned their mind, body and soul,

Those men,

Like me now,

Who met their muses,

For certainly these words profess,

You are, my Muse,

Evidenced herein I wonder,

Aphrodite,

Cleopatra,

Helen of Troy,

All enchanting,

Just like you,

You.

Those words spoken,

Can not be undone,

Those feelings expressed,

Did not, do not just fade away,

True love never dies.

 

Delilah,

Eve,

Ruth,

Who though perhaps uncouth still held court,

And found their men measured and wanting,

Of them,

Each victim of Cupid’s arrow instantly beguiled,

Finding in their evolution,

For we all change,

Evolve,

Become better,

The conclusion that love,

Only love,

Is the answer.

 

Philemon,

Echo,

Eurydice,

Shall I Orpheus be?

Unleash the tormented tears of gods and nymphs alike,

As I have been bitten,

Not smitten,

Bitten by the intrinsic charms that make you the unique flower you are,

My Lily,

Shall I to the underworld,

Begging of those gods for your return,

Though this time remembering to not look back,

Until this earthly plain we have arrived,

For I do not want you to vanish,

Ever.

 

Our story,

So far, as yet, unwritten,

May be, we, like Salim and Anarkall,

You the beautiful courtesan,

And me the ordinary boy,

With an extraordinary mind,

Beautiful,

Falling for you in a moment of grace,

Where your eyes danced,

And your spirit soared,

Inspiring these words that adore,

But I can no more make you love me,

Than I can make the sun revolve around the earth,

But I do not want to watch you,

At my expense,

Entombed in front of my eyes,

Ordinary boy that I may be,

Ordinary, you,

Are not.

 

Are you my Penelope?

As Odysseus are we to be ripped apart at the seams,

Years passing,

Twenty,

Before you realize that I can, will and want to take care of you,

Ever more,

True love,

This, possible,

Is not only worth waiting for,

But is worth being without other suitors,

Ever present though they may be,

For I know what I desire,

And it is only within you,

Muse.

 

Like Pocahontas and John Smith,

From two different worlds we may be,

But the same earth we share,

And that is enough to make me feel the warmth of your soul,

With every step I take,

Electrified by the earth we share,

Where I, empowered, by your loveliness,

Of beauty I dare not speak, instead that inner resplendence,

Such that I would bear the burden of the torture,

This torture,

Literal and figurative,

Of being without you,

Where informed of my death you move on,

Only to discover years later,

That you were and are,

The only one for me,

True lovers,

Meant and destined to be.

 

Even in death I long to be with you,

Strewn across the affairs of your heart,

Like Pyramus and Thisbe,

Babylonians to the end,

Like Rapunzel are you in a tower?

May I ascend?

Freeing you from your confusion,

And all that ails you?

 

Friends though only now we have become,

A lifelong story begins with one step,

Having taken one, two, three,

Are you ready to take more?

I believe you are,

Stop fighting your desire,

Soar with me.

 

And this journey is not yet run,

While surely you are the fairest,

Doubtless,

Without equivocation,

The beast I may be,

But your beast I will be,

Bearing the burden, gleefully,

Of ensuring your every happiness,

Only to discover that your veil inside the lion’s mouth,

Makes my life no longer matter,

Such that without you,

I would pierce my own chest,

That in death we may again be reunited,

(hopefully years from now on B-612, ours)

For perhaps in seeing this dedication,

You too would see,

What may be.

Are we like Paolo and Francesca,

You, temporarily destined to Gianciatto,

While I sit in wait,

While we both read of Guinevere and Lancelot,

Finding in that tale the tale of our own,

Once upon a time and happily ever after,

Where for a brief moment,

Before our demise we know,

Truly,

What love can be?

 

Let’s hope it is not too late…

Like Eloise and Abelard,

Shall I be your tutor,

And you my teacher,

Secret advances,

While our affection grows,

A love for the ages,

Sages imparted as we find,

That the dog you seek,

Becomes the child we both crave,

Born of a rare love,

And a circumstantial tragedy,

Tearing me apart, only to rebuild me again,

Better than before

Are you ready,

Separated by a love that makes me monk and you nun,

Evermore in love,

With nothing more than these words of evidence,

And my every action too,

Of what I believe to be true,

Am willing to profess,

Dare I say,

Know.

 

Perhaps we are like Layla and Majnun,

Tragically aware, that this love can’t be,

Cultural realities,

Marital realities,

Confusion,

Won’t be,

Yet should be,

Is this love unattainable?

Our love observed by a previous lover,

Maybe jealous,

Maybe cautious,

Maybe?

Such that we are prevented from seeing each other again…

Will we see each other again?

I long to see you again,

Every moment of every day,

The eccentric that I am,

Shall I stop eating,

Further emaciating,

For without the nourishment of love,

What am I,

But lost,

Majnun,

Madman,

For you,

Muse,

Will time, space and people keep us apart,

Shakespearean tragedy and faults,

Only to lay with each other in death,

Ashes strewn wherever our hearts agree?

 

Are you ready to experiment with your life,

And mine?

Join hands once more,

Feel that fire, undeniable,

As partners,

In life,

In love,

In molding the measured existence that transcends unified string theory

And even Stephen Hawking’s mind?

Like Marie and Pierre Curie,

Shall we spend every waking hour in the pursuit of something more,

Knowledge,

Wisdom,

Understanding,

LOVE,

As I am driven by you,

To excellence,

For you are my Nobel Prize,

You are,

My Nobel Prize,

Muse,

 

And I hope that in this obvious treatise you can see,

What awaits,

Should you decide,

To return,

Love sick idiot though I may be,

I am a lover,

You’d like to know,

Discover and be,

with.

Cast aside your fears,

Your doubts,

Cast aside your confusion,

And empower this love,

I love you,

I love you,

I love you,

And that will never change,

My Hmong Key!

For we are not ordinary people

And this,

This is no ordinary love…

SDM

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