Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Love

Regrets

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I wonder if she knows what she lost, now that she left

I know now what I’ve gained, now that I’ve lost

Now that I’m lost

Caught in the fog

I smell the exhaust

Coughin’, coffin?

Caught in-

Between overly cautious

And dauntless

Hostile or hostage

Sweat fills my arm pits

But now, the street a carpet

I need a seat belt harness

With every step I’m carsick

The road is my home

To view to experience – there’s so much now I know

Green light – I found my drive, I had to let her go

But I wonder if she’ll ever know…

Body Language

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She never felt wanted 
Blush painted her face 
I felt it…the volcanic like heat of an erotic exhale
Raising the hair on my neck 
I sensed the electric flush of her skin
I saw the vision of desire, eclipsing her irises –
Divulging her secret while fighting the clouds of precipitation 
The pent up protrusion of her diaphragm echoing the 
Contained rage of need within, against my chest 
That iconic moment had an expiration, and for that, she resented me
But I heard the angelic vibrations of her throat
Summon up a fulfilled “thank you”
With one last heave of her chest, and an exhale 
More carnal, yet serene 
We drifted into time…
All she asked for – a hug.

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Somehow love became a testimony of truth or fiction 

We accuse and both too defensive 

The proof in friction 

That pollutes our vision 

What ensues are new bruised decisions 

Love takes two but who’s forgettin

The smallest things lose attention 

So I wonder if still saying “I love you” will loosen tension 

https://proseofacon.com/2017/08/12/54/

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Let me inhale your infinite effect
Your aura, scent, pheromones
Willingly I fall into the spell of your alluring glare
Enchant me with the orchestra of your vocal cords
Soothe my soul, ignite my spirit & set pace to my heart
Fill me with the taste of every lie & truth
Dispelled from the nectar of your lips, I’ll digest it as life
Cast me into oblivion with the vibrations of your touch
And I’ll gladly exist there eternally with the memory of us.

https://proseofacon.com/2017/08/10/48/