Amor Interruptus

Amor Interruptus

In these sultry sirocco summer days
I can't help thinking of sundry ways
Of expressing my ardor for you
Without making you think it's untrue....

Well, tonight I am looking at you in full concentration
And try to fathom my infatuation.
Where is the locus of my attraction:
The eyes, the smile,
Or the shriveled tits,
The budging tummy,
Or the shrunken behind?

None of the above.
It must be your heart
That knows fairness,
And the mind that knows right from wrong,
And your plaintive cry of loneliness.

So, I'm telling you, come hither
And let me hold you tight,
Let me sing for you a lullaby
That would help you pass through the night.
You don't have to tell me that you love me
And I don't have to declare that for you I care.
We just lie in each other's arms and feel less despaired.

You said," you've got me all wrong.
I was not playing hard to get.
I was being deadly afraid,
Afraid that your feelings were not true
And what would happen to me if away you move.
You knew damned well I was falling hard for you.
It is not so much you want to hold me tonight
As about many nights in the future.
Will you still then find me a delight?"


The above poem could be expanded to constitute a narrative, but writing verse is a demanding task. And I am not up for it. So, now I have to switch to prose. Notwithstanding the opening stanza, the title of the poem is evocative of an unfulfilled and unfinished love affair. And that means Laura is back on stage, occupying a focal point. I have been harping on Laura not because I still love her, but rather she was my first experience in understanding women. Several readers of my blog (okay, I lied. Only one reader so far. And she did so for obvious reasons) have raised a question that I have been using the mythos of Laura as an excuse of not growing up emotionally. She got it all wrong, you see. Thanks to the painful memories left behind by Laura, I got more cautious and more stoic. Nothing and nobody are going to throw me off balance

(cont.)