Jan. 20th, 2017

kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
Literature was the original anonymous writing platform. Words are crafted to speak deep truths while hiding the same. Kings are taunted and unrequited romantic requests were sent. “When You’re the One” is a cheeky celebration of the latter.

When You’re the One

If you wonder if you're the one
spoke in prose, endearment’s choice
or wrapped in wonder at life's travails
perhaps you are, consider this
I'll broach not names as I relate
my life unwoven in stanza's breath
put to page so it may lay
away from breast where my heart prays.

Love and lost have been quick themes
along with longing for distant things
a pity as near as you’re to me
yet far too distant to speak with glee
in this space I wrote the poems
echoed feelings from the heart
putting tags on the “you”
by scrape of pen and move of quill.

No gender pronouns shall be used
to soon exclude half of the room
when the all world is my fair game
for vain attentions I've exclaimed
the only clue is three letters long
the reader asks how to respond
when their name may have same length
while pronouns mask my true intent.

If the "you" was held to heart
whispered not in black and white
they'd never know of my resolve
this burden carried by the one
this subterfuge is not to taunt
or tease the one that resonates
with stanzas borne on sorrow's pen
cast outside so I may heal.

Out there in breadth of wide world
my truest target knows the mark
as I aim straight at their heart
my words discrete in camouflage
whilst all around the others puzzle
at this dance between the couple
seen in silhouette of words
consummating never more.

In this crowd I sought safety
pleaded for anonymity
with a nod it was given
on the face that knew the truth
my words are wrapped in thinnest gauze
meant to shade the piercing sun
if your wit is half as bright
I'll not hide in plain sight.

My subterfuge is made deeper
by choice of photo to include
with the stanzas made up of verse
focused on the one obscured
this I regret with much love
as I have ranted to gods above
never asking that prayers be heard
only that the burden may be dropped.

In the end the game is up
the clues are found one at a time
like bread crumbs through fairy glen
leading you to the me
have you discovered you're the one
to which I've so long abused
through word of poem on many days
spouting forth "I love you"?

2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170120.


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