You ask why I set foot at places
where you exhale
your thoughts, your ravings,
your private jeremiads
and you can only look at me
for the silence that comes after
maybe you’re able to divine the answer
how it’s simply the closest I’ve gotten
to laying my eyes on you
begetting a tenderness
that’s hard to construe.
You may cite my harbor for craft
which is beyond my league
although it’s a mistake to think
there’s anything from you I might need.
There’s nary an end within
to cull the gems I’ve set in your esteem
and despite those words I shouldn’t have tried to read
I could only extend my hand to you,in peace.
Because the traces of where this heart has thus been
I still have no want to peel.
– geena 2016
Bohemian Sentiments 