The Tryst

A year ago
we stepped into the light
flirting, baiting, coaxing
smiling, smirking, laughing
building the moment
a moment that should never have been
playing like children
seeking comfort
from our separate loneliness

And in the year since
we’ve barely spoken
casting our eyes away
making mundane chit chat
when necessary
the metamorphosis
of a changing wind has carried us
into deep thoughts of a different day
seeing one another in a surrealistic way
confusion of what is and isn’t
our world suddenly painted
in swirling abstract distorted colors
pushing away what our bodies desired
neither having a clue of the heart
neither wanting to clarify more confusion

But, today
the surrealism has vanished away
our friendship breaking the silence
our mouths and eyes
speaking the words we longed to hear
our bodies…fingers, lips, the heat
painting happiness, again
if only for another moment
if only to soothe our conscience
and open a door to sweet release

Your face I touch
tracing the thin sweet full red lips of a boy
brushing away the graying hair of a man
in need of solace
in need of peace
in need of love
in need of understanding

So, I will soothe your pain
for as long as the river wishes to run
and I will let you go
when our time is done
and I will cherish every moment
that is allowed for this tryst
for now the silence is broken
and it has long been your presence
I have missed

©2004 Rebecca Braun


Author Notes

10 Comments for “The Tryst”

Tim Hillebrant

says:

This is a beautiful poem, that speaks on several levels.
Love had, love lost, love found again.
Needs met, and the altruistic way of helping someone else when knowing in the the end there might be pain for the effort.

I can easily relate.
Enough that reviewing this was hard- it strikes a chord.

Tim

Lisa Doesburg

says:

This literally brought tears to my eyes, Becky. Wow. Incredibly deep and touching, my friend. Now where’s the damn kleenex!

says:

Awwwww…thank you, Lisa. It is an older poem I came across today. Been doing some rummaging and reminiscing. It is a wonderful compliment to know it touched you in some way. ? ….Passing the kleenex.

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