I Wonder

I wonder what I said? I wonder what I did? When I did it? Stupid me!
I know nothing of the nature of this cause and its effect on my simple character or for the discomfort you may have. So I languish with an ill feeling of loss for direction and a longing to that calmer respite brought about by your friendship. Which since has been eroded like the shores that meet at the waters edge. Knowing your here gives me some small comfort ; still I find it hard to keep my fingers from forcing the keys to message you; yielding to my desire, "to not place my trust in my feelings again", and pushing you further away. I just keep coming on here and- I WONDER.
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I hoped the earnest praise of your pulchritude and a shared affection for the mutual newness we had along with the kindness and care of a friend would be enough to, help you feel with me for something new and exciting. Instead It made you withdraw to your inner self, away from the prying eyes of this," praise foolish affectioner". Help me understand angel - Do you bore from the suggestive ramblings of this half hearted muse caught up in a moment filled with the sound of his own delight? Then again; as now - I Wonder.
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You resist my frail attempts at holding your attention for very long and guiding your emotions for our mutual benefit. Your very bright - as well as a warm soulful personality ; but its your weary self deriding passion that’s got me puzzled. I know you feel, I just don’t know what helps you do it. Still though I wonder and I hope your passions have faded and you find comfort in the new quiet of separation. I am trying to cause myself to lessen those fancy notions of your image and the rush of my wonder for and about you.
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My wonder brings me back here again ; to,” when I could feel you posting”, and see your emotions in the threads. Here in this instant, among the letters and words that make up your thoughts. I am drawn to the ,“light” of your personal touch. “The familiar”, of a bright warmth that washes over me in waves and falls around me and fills this place with the comfort of wonder for you.
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Giving rise to,” the needing”- I ponder in the sane recess of my mind away from your ephemeral luminosity. Posts roll past me, unable to affect my conscionable self interest ,”you“. Logging into another sight I hope for an accident that will catch the fray of my wonder lust and give relief to this blight. I am unable to find a replacement or a momentary diversion for this longing : To know you, as I feel you. So I wander. Until the wonder of your personal touch draws me back to the nearness of
“This Place”.
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Hi angel. I missed you and the light of your passion and the touch of your nature and its cause on my simple character. And the rush of needing to feel with you for a time. This was a work of pleasureable wonder for me. These many labors of knowing you and helping you to be the canvas of my prose. Using our words to form pictures into meanings, and making each one from strokes painted with your beauty so that our care and kindness could keep the portrait of this, “Our moment” a thing that will last beyond the treasure of what was.
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This was supposed to be like , "This Place". A refuge both real and elusive that bound us to the affairs at heart and helped foster a trust that grew beyond our experiences and back. Help me to understand - What constitutes rational passions? I have to know you? I have to feel you?I have to tell you? These things I considerd, and find to me so personal - " Yet ours" . You I must share ,"a friend I can never know".
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Willful intentions turned to misspelled needs and a storm of togetherness moving off in the distance.
Leave us helpless, in the wake of a moment per chance, bathed in happen stance and lost to the conduits of fortune and pain .Work produces error, its labor seems for little. Still your beauty captivates and behaves in me the wildest fashions I have- never known. I must beg to take an absence from the follies of this- OUR WONDER- and calmly insist the job of binding our trust can best be performed by a division of labors, each attending to the other .
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You asked me once, “ Why Me”? I thought it was your steps away from the storm of my wanting that caused this preoccupation with , the reason of you. Like the woman in the poem : “Her steps as quick of her retreat from cautious lives she will never meet to anxious suitors who’s hearts she aimlessly shall defeat.” I found the answer in a time when the wonder-ness,“of this” was struck with contemplation and shown in the reflection of truth . It is,"Because you let me“.
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Soon with, time, distance and shielding we both will be protected from each others seething passions and the,"then of what was",will be a place in time that exercises its hurt when we have occassion to let it into our thoughts. Don't let the fallout ruin your image of , "that moment when best you felt and let down the will to your sorrows", and gave love a chance to heal the nature of wounds since past, that gave you hope, and still showers us with- WONDER.
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NOW I am the one who feels lost, rejected and in despair from your," chorus of passions and their muted delight". Spirals in lessons that only bring states lower and still less, than before. Depths to which I am unaccustomed in my personal experiences. These teachings mostly ready one to be lead; because of desire and want of submission or be held in contempt for retributions sake. Then I say, down we must go. Confronting our wonder.