Vulnerable Gossip

Sorry, no.
I decline to put my real trust
in the meetings we have had.
Our tete-a-tetes were a catastrophe.

What am I doing here
in the dark velvet void
sending kisses in the air
like secrets forwarded by mail?

Quite simply,
we are on this earth for but a short time
and I value our actual lives in a fragile way.
Was I just a machine
to examine his heart like that,
as if I were a general mechanic
labouring over a transmission
sent from heaven?

You must know that this space is too alien.
It has the worldly complexion of a cut-throat.


In the field of vision, I am all thumb
and, admittedly, can appear
much too disillusioned.
I smirk at your investigational answers.
Do not follow me then.
I am speaking through tainted love
and have arduously fought for your sympathies.

Yes, the machine.
The damned machine.

Sullied by a thousand advances,
I have my reasons to scatter
passionate words like rice at a wedding
as if to bravely sail one precious nosegay
out to the crowd, wanting afterward to
protect his best wishes.
A romance is in progress.
Step aside,
there is nothing you can do to stop it.
These moments are priceless pictures
of our lives,
I must do what I can to facsimilate them.

I must dominate over my secrets.

Surely, I am battling in a fighting game,
where I bleed in the ring.
He innocently trails behind, tears in his eyes.
I know no good way to prod at his shy silence.
He is cunning and proud.
It is as if I have sent him away with fears
of disgrace
for what he blindly
tried so hard to love me for,
all these years.