Old poetry with a rebirth “Disease”


 

 

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Disease

 

 

Two strangers sat together.
Discussing things that didn’t matter.

The woman looked at the man.
Told him.
“I was once a beauty once.
Men begged for my attention.”

He whispered.
“Beauty is one less burden.
For I can see what you really have become.
You have nothing to hide now.
You became what you truly are.”

He smiled. Kissed her forehead.

Told her.
“Laughter and good drinks were the answer now.”

She smiled and told him..
“You are ugly with hate.
A sad end for a man.
Who held so many dreams.”

He looked into the mirror.

He saw a old and tire man.
Told her.
“Dreams are what the children hold on to.”

” It comes a time.
When you realize.
We are all greedy bastards wanting too much.
Too little.”

She looked away.
He try to explain his disease isn’t so special.
“It is many ways to died.
I have chosen my way to finish my journey.”

She asked him to come home with her.
He thanks her for the kind offer.

Her eyes.
Full of anger.
Would not except his excuse for not desiring her.

Her voice.
Changed to a softer tone.
Like a Doctor finding a new disease.

She wondered how any man could not desire her?
She licked her lips.
Told him.
“I could teach you to hunger again?

Make you want to swim in the heat of the warm flesh.”

He gave her a hug.
Whispered into her ear.
“I danced in the turmoil of the flesh so often.
I don’t desire to feel the hunger to enter
into the game of the flesh anymore.”

He kissed her lips and her forehead.
His hand felt the softness of red hair.

Her eyes are shining now.
Still trying to figure a way to break down
the wall of safety.

She whispered  and brought him closer to her body. Told him.
“I will make you yearn for me.
Men are but fool’s wanting for a purpose.”

He smiled.
Told her. “In time we all become the master or the slave.
Looking for someone to pray to or become the servant.
A screw-up game of give just enough.”

Love has become the most worthless of the four letters words.

She asked him to go home with her again..

He lifted his drink to her.
Told her. “You are still young and may have a chance?
Honey.
Walk away from this bar.
Only the walking dead are waiting for death.
Are here.”

She kissed his face many times.
Young woman with so many scars.
Whispered. “I love you old Poet.”

He watch her walk away.
He does a silence prayer.

He prayed for her to be Okay.

“Don’t end up twisted up and have no place to be.

But the darkness and loneliness of bars and taverns.
Coyote
1988