The error of my being

 In the error of my being

enveloped in your breasts, I wake

to protest my flailing love

for women and women-like things

Floating within your peripatetic mind

to find you searching

for a morsel of pain, the kind that

debilitates your sorrows away

sometimes I regret,  having asked

you to wait, for me and myself,

while I hid, right where the horizon ends,

and the seas began. I predict rain,

pouring, tumultuous torrent,

before the day’s end.

I wish I talked in my dreams,

I wish you’d listen to me,

until then, the same

our sorrows and sleep.

P.S.- Embedded here is Chet Baker’s sorrowful creation ‘Almost Blue’. I have decided to accompany my poems with a song/tune of my choice. May be it will help the readers understand what I had in mind. Also, anything is better with a background score.

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