Transcription
The Novelist Portent
Johnny E. Mahaffey
February 18, 2019
BLAZON OF TEN
Her goddess eyes like blue sky poetry
Her enchanting hair like a spell of Wiccan mysticism
Her lips like a call for celibate exorcism
Her youth shared with me in unknowing legal emancipation
My relations with others under her examination
Her little cover middle of the night digital peeping Tomism
My life improved by her mere association
My total Ten, this blonde gone brown bombshell
I want to—plan to—write our love story without misspell
Maggie to my Seth Plate in our City of Angels, Team Atlanta, Where I fell
Our hearts open, not a single lie or game
1999, our moment in time, forever stuck in a mental freeze frame
With me unaware of her jealousy that could still inflame
None of this, not one minute, could I have tried for foretell
Never did I think my presence in her life she would reclaim
To be without her was, and is, my life's worst cataclysm
To be without her is a life of soulfelt asphyxiation
Our communication to be a non-kiss-and-tell
Every mistake my own, with no one else to blame
My heart full of pain from her fare thee well
Her parting a mere text of salutation
I am scared—Death hovers near without her alleviation
Her attention my salvation, her caring soul—my heart's continuation
Her shape, smell, taste, and sounds, burned into me with total nudism
Her anger and disapproval pushes at my anxiety with untiring athleticism
Her promises not easily forgotten, as I will always hope with idealism
M
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