A Night's Plea Poem by Asset Balin

Not so was i,
consumed
by agitation
to correspond
or to knock
to her phone.
…
for there were
preoccupations
which drip on her
still silhouette
…
supine were these
limbs and brows
as I thought of our not
so distant days, the plays,
the cuddling warm moments.
…
she was,
i was,
i suppose,
listlessly endeavoring to calm ourselves,
and douse such fragrant flagrance
formed from the past night’s
off
of
silvery
fallin ‘
blades …
i
know
not how
to show
a stern whip for my heart
or evenly cut my expressions down to a dot.
she abhors my inclination for an impetuous response
to a rainy situation; or her cautious, tenacious social-dance.
acceptance for queer yet at times sweet tendencies
lead to piles and sacks and tons of queries.
the old night cries in pain again
as i end this affective- -
displacement,
without
any
__ gain.