a siren
she lacked the fuck-it-all mentality
the hubris of denial, a fainting
moral discipline to attach and let go,
attack for blood's sake... no gamer...
where my doubts were not whispering to me, but for me,
through me 'without a doubt' - as structural as that seems
she moved from within me, wept a catalyst longing, and forced me
onto myself.
not debbonnaire, nor funereal, not perchance
but perhaps hyper-real, alone with her I was never alone...
belonging like an apex -
no shortage of weakness on my part.
she'd let go then approach me, that other me -
one who never wishes, dreams, or expires.
©2009 wfairbrother