The Numbing
As beauty wraps her wings around us
in her dominating innocence,
her ripening, her charm, and shapes,
her perfumed gardens and tender fruit,
placing them in front of our eyes,
taking our breath
and throwing it to the wind,
putting fantasies in our wicked minds
with her silky slender fingers,
as affinity sits amongst the clouds
laughing and playing with us,
taking children and ripening them
before our very eyes,
when age is only a number
and passion is non-discriminative
as it stirs up the passion engine inside
that runs like a herd of buffaloes
until the end of time.
But we, fathers and mothers of reason,
as we work to suppress our passion,
that first step that leads us to
love’s consummation,
the bliss at the end of the line,
with our duty to numb our senses,
to defy the passion churning inside,
that it doesn’t exist in us,
and pretend that we are above it,
have done our duty as normal adults.
We are commended for acting
against nature’s course that
would have brought us
to the heights of love.
