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Self Discovery: The Big 3

As I held on to her I knew she was something to behold.
Skin wrapped in gold,
My shelter from the cold,
I was her furnace,
She was my fuel,
Together we were the resistance from the cruel, cruel world.
She left in a hurry.
She was in another relationship.

She was my sensuality’s fantasy.
The very image of perfection.
I met her at a party and I knew she was my selection.
The connection we had,
I couldn’t explain,
But her name put all genres of music to shame.
Ha. What a choice I made, when she hopped on the plane,
I said goodbye to the dame fanned a years worth a flames,
Only to fall back in her arms.
Feminine charms like magic incantations on the male heart,
Oh my.
She was something to see.
And when I left her, she left me.
Twas the right thing.

Then the third.
She was it.
The pinnacle of my heart’s reflection.
Deep in the embrace of my most secret desires,
She had slept for months.
The first time I hugged her it was atmospheric.
I held her spirit.
Our intimate moments were nirvana.
She was afterall the Great Trianna.
The mix breed child of tremendous beauty.
Three nights before we began to unravel,
We were packing up her stuff and there were songs being played.
I held her for a moment.
The earth stood still.
“I will love you, I will”
My first slow dance. Age 21.
Sam and Marcel’s only son.
Her great big eyes twinkling like coffee colored stones in the dawn,
Before I could have her she was gone.
Physically, mentally, emotionally.
The infidelity not reported until eventually.
I provincially began building up walls existentially,
Knowing the barriers could only be downed by God.

3 Queens. Countless maids, maidens, and duchesses.
Building my relational frame like buttresses.
3 goddesses.
The worship I gave them was the oddest,
Assortment of adoration and education.
As a man I never gave in, completely.
No woman would sweep me off my feet see,
Lest I see the deep sea of incalculable risk.

I am a King with no Queen.
A story with back scenes,
With grass green,
But traps unseen.
It seems, the 3 dreams,
Turned nightmares left residual effects.
Like specks of dust trapped in the grain of the chest.




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