Mimi-Mona – Poetry: Too Fast Was The Pace of Passing Time

too fast the pace

Too Fast Was the Pace of Passing Time

 Mimi Wolske

Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona

You swam towards me, away from me, around me,

Inside my head with my every breath in vain.

My muscles hurt; your bottomless ocean overwhelmed fiercely,

Like all pain existed just to feel hope again.

Reveries of you remain the salt in my mouth—it drives me on and on.

The heart-shaped sigh between the surprise and comfortable, and

Though I felt I would drown

A little bit under each kiss, I got to be closer to you being in command.

Arms that cannot carry me,

With hands made in the reflection of my dreams.

But I know who will always walk beside me;

You who asks nothing of me yet seems

To know what is meant to be—like the air

Inside each bubble of water.

Is this why you always smile underneath that blank expression?

With you there’s no doubt, no shame, no risk;

I feel it like the touch of the untouched…

A touch that asks never anything less

But always something more,

And better we both shall become and all things endure!

Dreams not of fading lives but of life that never sleeps.

Teach me thoughts and I’ll teach you about will.

Teach me thoughts and I’ll teach you about thrill.

In every way possible you have shown me

This is ecstasy, where sea angels fly

Without becoming blind and eaten by the sun.

“Let me sleep. You make me insane with your mind reading”

Is this my dream? Can it be my reality?

Someday I’ll stop swimming and you can walk with me

As all the worlds collide, as soft

As the ends of all rainbows and

As fragile as the wings of butterflies.

Finally to meet, and the ones in the water cry no more,

We walked on feet of our own…and

With arms you could use and hands that explore,

Pressed against my heart and soul, fingers that spanned,

My face you touched upon to console,

My lips you kissed with your own

As you whispered perfect words, extol;

Then gazed at me with my moist eyes…you became my loadstone…

Moist not because of pain, not because of sorrow or rage,

But only because too fast was the pace of passing time.

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