You always want what you can’t have
the less likely you are to get it,
the more intensely you think you need it.
I admit it, I do,
from that first time
outside
where she spewed cigarette
smoke like a dragon,
too dangerous to kiss
yet, aching to,
the fire inside nearly scalding
as that without,
subsequently all those other
if brief encounters,
an errant knight
seeking to dip his
lance
into the softest spot,
aching to stir up the blaze
only found in the
deepest places
only after significant duel,
the in and out,
the stabbing down
into the pit,
not to cause pain,
but to cure it,
the wrestling required
to stir up these coals
with time,
to extinguish the fire
that burns so hot
in both of us.
Ok, I admit it, I miss it,
miss more what I never had,
never will,
except for those
times at night
when I close my eyes
and wish for it,
wish it could all be
real.
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