If Only Once

I once loved someone, sincerely.
I once loved you, exclusively; a black-and-blue psyche
renders such passionate consequences.

My paper heart has been torn by a set of sandbag
evoking fingers and his carpenter scissors, and glued by
a pair of ebony-infused, amorous, discreetly sexual
hands…hands that I must miss forever.

Sentiments take over leisurely, craving for you, the man
of my swollen thoughts, to hold me over tightly. Securely, into
the symmetry of my weather-beaten mind, and out the basin over-
looking the gates above days of childhood sunrises.

My emotions lose themselves, wildly, without reservations.
No longer do father-daughter tea party invites find their
way into that decrepit brownstone mailbox, neither
does my essence into your warm blooded, African American, Marine embrace.

Will you ever think of another, the way he has?
My incessant cries of sorts will they ever depart, happily
arriving in mirrors of constant joy lying within you?
Will a green river of yellow breezes ever lead me
to your brazen Rastafarian deep?

Will you ever seize my heart, the way my father held on to another’s?
My shoulders wince, the caramel-colored sky-
lights to my core release their tension, the hold
on my heart is not patient, in times like these it never will be.

Whenever you call, forever will resound, strident
in my ears. A gift, one that left you dazzled, myself
restlessly unopened.
Time heals all wounds, I lie, it rarely does, and I speak true volumes.
You will forever be stagnantly vivid in my memories, even if I
have to wait forever, a constant motion never
to be lived, to set you free.

Even if.