T.S. Eliot (Introspective Confession)

As she laughed I was conscientious
Of transformational consequences
Suddenly becoming fully realized
In my eyes— the bearer of compliments—
The longing ensnarer of fire
Pronging the shared stare of our desire
As other people more near interfere
And steal us from how much we care
When our prepared hands feel each other’s touch
Lush with fruitful trust
Plucked from our minds in the bare
Designs of so much more than lust
And all that we never said
Is fed with hushed discussions
Over breakfast in bed
Yet we hold our crutch of suitable silverware
And march on separate paths
With a mutual memory
That lasts
Sentimentally attached
To an attraction indentured,
Existing only mentally,
Consisting of thoughts not unheard,
Essentially conjured
In the essence of introspective confession.

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