Date Posted:23:33:17 11/29/99 Mon Author:lindsay Author Host/IP: ts007d30.dal-tx.concentric.net / 206.173.141.90 Subject: Old Men Who Won't Dance
She cries in hushes for the man she loves,
dries her tears for the man she once knew.
Painting kiss & tell portraits, strain lays
its harsh strokes, creating lines of yearning
which will never enhance her face.
“I’m sorry…I’m just tired,”
and she speaks softly of chafing,
of weary suppers, and lonely hours
with a man who never smiles.
But he shares his knowledge—
when she wants it,
and gives her space—
when she needs it.
He has become a comfortable
gift in battered packaging,
even if he won’t dance.
............
So...had a friend pop in on me yesterday. Brave lady, hard life knocks, and then there's the guy she's married to. Not such a bad sort really, and completely devoted to her, if not passionate. He does have his shining moments. She left giving him a slurpy kiss. You shoulda seen his eyes bulge :)
