Poeme

Her perfume was quicker than she
It arrived moments before she came through the door.

A scent, mild
Blowing in upon fall's sweet breeze.
Through the screen door
She announced herself
Through the Macy's Counter.

And upon her arrival
The day I noticed her first
The day I faltered in my sadness
I awoke to her beauty
I became again
A man

A man standing upon the shadows
Of the little boy he had been.

And I knew
I knew this Woman
Standing tall
Glaring at me
Knowing the child that I was
Would destroy me.
And I was glad.
I was glad
For losing myself
For stripping bare the life
I had settled into.
Losing what I had become
For what I could be.

So my dear,
As short or as long as you linger,
Thank you