Roger N. Taber: aspects of a gay man's life in verse

29 June 2008
08:36:00 o'clock BST
Feeling Quiet

Every poem tells a story. Some are inspired by wishful thinking while others…

 

EXORCISM

 

You brushed past me in a corridor

and I froze;

when I looked, you were looking too,

scratching your nose;

eyes firing questions at each other

found no answers

(none we cared to probe too closely);

We went our own ways

as wemeant, although not quite,

for haunting each other’s

every move and thought for days

on end

 

Did I perhaps want you for a friend,

I kept asking myself?

(trying to put you out of my mind)

or was there more,

desire of another kind coursing me,

heating my blood,

pumping heart and pulse faster

than ever before?

I’d tell myself I had a fever that

would pass…

but it dogged my every footstep,

grew worse

 

You brushed past me in the corridor

on another occasion;

We paused, unsure how to establish

a reason;

You licked your lips and I licked mine,

tongues frozen,

alter egos debating  our sexuality

head-on;

We shook hands. Your palm plied mine

with passion,

thythm of your name exploding in me

like an orgasm

 

Colleagues, we still haunt the corridor;

lovers, afraid of ghosts no more

 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

Written by rogertab Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this