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Guest Book

Carayan Press

Did you know?
©2000 Janet Stickmon

I lay my hand across your back. You stiffen.
I hold your face in my hands. You flinch.
Does the obstinance of disbelief cripple you?
This life you live, is it so accustomed to instability
Fear prevents it from knowing the solace of simplicity, of affection, of stability?

No. I do not speak of romance.
I speak of contemplation upon the real.

Has your beauty ever held someone’s eyes with an unrelenting embrace,
Sending tears of ambiguity down their face
Crying desperately for more, crying desperately for mercy?

Are bodies immobilized,
As if Wisdom has stepped before them?
That unforeseen emanation, capable of moving all,
Does it cause bodies to halt before making their advance?
Perhaps, it has
And you never noticed.

Your scent, your eyes, your thoughts,
Your rich blackness, your Cebuano blood,
Do they intoxicate the proud and the unaware,
Making them soulmates with God?
Perhaps, they have
And you never noticed.

Did they not tell you? Or did you not believe?
Oh, soul of beauty, that fine line separating polite acceptance of adoration
From internalized love of self has confused and killed many.
Forsaken compliments, once proudly offered, now lay to the ground,
Unscathed, but unwanted.

Those vacant spaces of your life, did your lovers fail to enter them?
Hands never held. Faces never touched. Thoughts never heard.

Yes, these chasms. Did they know they were filled with blood?
No, they did not.

You never screamed. You never yelled.
You cried, but only with the four walls of many cold rooms.
Vulnerabilities never disclosed.
You simply lived, bound by pretenses,
Aspiring toward survival.

Did they forget to ask,
“Are you aware of the beauty and the hope that sustains you and those you touch?”
So, did they plan to tell you?
When? Soon or never?
So, do you plan to hear them?
When? Soon or never?

Oh, soul of beauty, do not await the arrival of never.
Never has confused and killed many.

You shall not wait.
You have held my eyes.
You have stopped my body.

Feel my hand across your back.
Hold my hands against your face.
Accept this gift.
Not soon. But now.


Copyright ©2005 Carayan Press