Rarely is anything personal shared by Mimi-Mona, so this rarity offers some insight to the readers of works by Mimi and Mona
Enjoy
i
ask myself, will this be too serious after his remark not to get all serious? i
don't know if it is, but i keep saying—to myself—this is the first and only man
with whom i can be totally honest in all respects.
but, now, i'm not sure i can. i remember your saying, don't ask questions or something very close. i don't know how not to be sincere and not to ask questions or be serious...i can joke and play, but not 100% of the time.
but, now, i'm not sure i can. i remember your saying, don't ask questions or something very close. i don't know how not to be sincere and not to ask questions or be serious...i can joke and play, but not 100% of the time.
when
i stroll the park across from me or sit and think about what i want to write, i
think of those things and i think i would like to be the kind of woman who
doesn't give a damn about you. go ahead, laugh...i love to hear you laugh,
although i can't very well electronically...i have to grab that memory whenever
i say something i think you might laugh at or chuckle about.
i love talking to you and writing to you and i keep looking for written responses...so i rant in my RANT JOURNAL and then i draw wicked picture
doodles...like i do when i'm writing poetry...they help me think and they calm
my thoughts.
sometimes
i feel like a page ripped out of a periodical that's cut into little disposable
pieces (oooo, that's good, i might use that in a book or a poem...maybe not).
mostly you swell with enthusiasm and it arouses me to the symphony of
life...slow in the beginning, swelling quickly to the fullness of the beat...my
blood rushes like that... when we talk, when you respond to me.
hearing
nothing feels like you put on the brakes and i'm still traveling down that road
enthusiastic about life and you...i never feel the brakes...until i realize
you're missing; and i have to slow and look for you, for any part of you, for
anything from you, anything attached to anything from me —this is a different
kind of bondage and it makes me dizzy.
these
are not short sentences... these are expressions, the way i think, everything
looped and connected but only cut off when i make a turn.
short
sentence:
i'm
starved for you.
©THE STRANGLE AND THE STRUGGLE
Mimi Wolske, November
2010
All Rights Reserved
Dare I write to you of
My longing to see you
To show you how much I
Need to see you again
To kiss your smiling face
And feel you in my arms
Is it too soon to say
My body is going crazy
wanting you since I left
You there hours ago
So I could catch my plane
Was it sadness in your eyes
I don't know how I will
Be able to tolerate
Waiting the months to be
Together wondering
If your body craves mine
Yes, mine cries out for yours
The kisses—the wetness
All melting together
The embraces so tight
That it hurts yet soothed by
Knowing desires of the
Strangle and the struggle
The mad passion, rumpled
sheets, dueling from sunup
To sundown to sunup
Days on end now tearful
longings for you you you
Dammit! Won't the phone ring
