“‘Oh, My,’ She Said”
“Oh, my,” she said, “I don’t mind!” and
She didn’t! The problem was that it was I
Who minded, and I should have let it slide,
But, no! I just had to let it land
On “One More Time!” I crossed the line
To bring up all our history–confusing it with prophesy–
To her, of course, it was all the same. It’s lost in me
The way I misdirect my plans at times;
She shouldn’t look that way of course, but blind
Men come to life when in the presence of the fine
Soft petals of a rose sensed with more than eyes.
It falls to me to meet the heights of these illusions, find
The nexus as with all familiars fortified with brew distilled
From grains of intuition and wine from simple grapes of will.