promises

this is too young for story telling

it is too small to magnify

but I have stood here, my god, so often

time has made me shy.

to praise, devote, inhale their love

as if they're unique companion I have sought.

usually not. 

the present tells a better story.

you stay for one two three 

as if it was eternity

and then we leave. 

the curtains fall. 

the show discontinues due to 

too muchs

or not enoughs

but I am usually bored. 

so often I have promised into the wishful night

into my dreary book, 

no man will take me from myself

and then they do

and I dissolve. 

But here I write it black on white

into the ether, a blogging site

you will not swallow me

I will not swallow you

I will not draw my lust, love and light

into you

I will not hope for what I cannot know

and I will not dream of a future that hasn't grown

I will be here

in the now

in the present of what is

and if it not you, it will be someone else

and if it is not someone else, I will still move on

I will not wait for a man

but will dance for myself.