Southern Mystery

It started with a longing

for touch and caressing

I never saw it coming

but my attention you came grabbing

You were so far yet

just under the palm of

my hands.

I used to think that

love is like a hat

something I beget

by the tip of my fingers

But oh, sweet Southern belle

learned I did

that love–

like you–

is a mystery

appreciated it should be

many others want to have it

only rendering it

spoiled and wasted

but lovers don’t squeeze it

revere love they do

Oh southern belle

you are a mystery and

only a true lover can get:

a mystery to be revered

not a commodity to be used

nor a complexity to be solved

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