“She” by Michael Dean Benton

She munches slowly a morpheme as he hungers for her. Taking the chance to sally the edges of abstraction as antidote to angst, he struggles with memories flowing through desire released in language initiating possibilities. How will she receive my scribbling, what will be the meaning, is communication possible? I recall her beckoning beauty; standing now, solitary, I listen to the stillness of my world, missing her laughter. Lacking a singing voice or a painter’s eye, I offer up words as a humble offering. Walking alone along boulevards of color and light I play word games. Winged thoughts circle above me turning eros into pages that her ethereal eyes might someday touch. If language is a virus, I am going to create an epidemic.

-Michael Dean Benton

5 thoughts on ““She” by Michael Dean Benton

  1. Rae Cobbs

    Wow! I like this! Even without line breaks, it would be cool if the last sentence could break after “going.” Maybe that’s just messing with a good thing!

    Reply
  2. Jaxx Liberty

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