1. Pulled Through 50
I knew you forever.
The 12-year-old
who would let
no one touch her,
but “let “
is the operative phrase,
they took
what I never thought to give
until my shriveled self
returned to the egg,
the albumen negating desire.
Oh, but you,
YOU,
sweet faced boy,
a picture on the wall
and weren’t you
just what I needed,
the forever man/child
of projection,
pure,
the young girl’s ardor
personified
and you wouldn’t hurt me,
would you?
The debauchery came later,
but SHE loved you
steadfast and true,
and so did I
(so did I).
Beautiful, beautiful boy,
the sweet lips
of a lovely dream
you pulled me through,
pushed me through
until all I saw
was all I would see.
But half a century passed
and you were HER gift,
are her gift,
though I wrote poems for you,
and she just wrote poems.
2. In The Mercy of The Moon
The panacea of Moon,
craters cry for a love
that left them,
rings the colors
of model passion.
I want something
that listens and yearns,
soft diamonds of
“I’m sorry, I know,
I’ve been where you are”.
Arms of light surround me,
a voice in vacuum,
if a lost soul moans
in the cushion of space
does it still make a sound?
My night wishes
tell me where you are,
I turn soft lips toward you
they find your body,
the musk of emotion.
It masks the scent of eternity,
the mercy of the Moon.
(Rose Aiello Morales has been writing poetry since she was seven years old and had her poem "God" published in her town newspaper.)
