So, from her poetry posts, she seems to be in love or at
least, heavy lust.
This is extremely rare for her.
As her poem from last summer indicated, she’s only been in
love a few times in her life. Men tend to fall in love with her, not the other
way around.
It has to be a remarkable person for her to go after the way
her poetry suggests she is going after this guy.
This raises questions about what this man is like.
Most likely, he’s Latino with a Latin name.
Since he’s married – possibly for a few years – he’s
probably slightly older or younger than she is, no older than 40 and no younger
than 29.
He’s probably very positive about himself, mildly
successful, but somewhat shy, even formal, insisting on doing things properly,
and thus treating her with that old fashion sense of respect.
If he has a flaw, it is that he is too nice, too careful not
to offend her, or leave her with the impression that he is only with her
because he’s attracted to her beauty.
He probably has an interest sense of humor, likes music,
maybe literature, and likes to listen to what she has to say. He’s also
playful, with a remarkably innocent kind of flirting.
Most likely, he speaks carefully, maybe a little slowly,
making sure of what he is saying, and is strangely moral. He loves his wife. He
is devoted to her, and though he may find her (our poet) attractive, he will be
reluctant to come on to her or do anything that would seem so, and yet, at the
same time, may well feel so comfortable around her that sometimes he will come very
close to embracing her.
He is probably well built, but not overly muscular, possibly
once an athlete in school who keeps in shape more for health than for being
macho.
On the surface, he seems quiet and unassuming, although
behind those dark eyes of his smolders real passion she can read each time
they’re together. She probably admires his ability to contain his lust, when
she clearly is finding it difficult to contain hers.
He most likely makes his living as a businessman or some
profession, such as a doctor.
And he is one of those people who legitimately wants nothing
more out of life than to be happy, to be with the right person, and to feel
needed.
Most likely, he has something of a long, oval face, with
dark intense eyes, a narrow forehead, a thin nose, a slightly wide mouth that
she finds she would like to kiss all the time and resists doing so. He may have
a small scar from some mishap in sports at school, but his skin would otherwise
be largely unmarred, making him look younger slightly than his actual age.
He would likely have narrow shoulders, the kind you would
find on someone who was a runner or played tennis, and equally narrow chest –
but fully developed, a flat stomach, thin thighs and long legs.
He’s probably slightly taller than she is, requiring her to
look up at him when they are close.
He would have a calm expression when not involved with
anything, thoughtful, as if has no cares in the world.
But when he smiles, his whole expression explodes into
something very bright, making him all the more attractive. His mouth revels a
lot about what he is feeling, pressed closed and slightly pale when upset about
something. His jaw shifts slight to the side when he is puzzled or thinking
more intently about something.
His gaze is always curious about things, especially when he
looked at her. It is an innocent gaze like a young boy learning about new
things or experiencing things he’s never experienced before. When he looks at
her, however, he shows an intense attraction that he quickly hides away, a bit
ashamed about it considering he is married.
Although he is not afraid to touch her, or be touched by
her, provided it doesn’t go too far.
He has thin, gentle hands that move in front of his chest as
he talks as if he is trying to shape his thoughts in the air.
He seems remarkably formal, not stiff so much as proper,
when he sits or walks, although he is not uncomfortable to sit with or walk
beside.
He wears good clothing, tan shirts, black or brown pants,
purchased from some reasonably priced haberdashery in an ethnic area near where
he lives. It is fashionable, but not flashy, and generally very clean and new.
She could not imagine him wearing anything other than what he wears, except for
imagining him wearing nothing at all.
He likely wears real leather shoes, well-polished, and
sometimes wears a jacket, but no tie.
He likely has very attentive and carrying parents, if not
successful themselves, made sure he got the education he needed to achieve what
he has achieved. He most likely met his wife through some social function
connected with his career.
He has never before cheated on her.
While not overly religious, he respects the faith of his
parents, and likely married in a church.
He loves music and dancing, going out to dinner, perhaps
even shows, and finds her (our poet) fascinating because she has so much
talent, her music, her art, her photography and her writing.
He most likely intends to advance in his career, finding a
management position of some sort or set up a professional office of his own.
He rarely loses his temper, but when he does, it is because
someone innocent has been wronged and he wants to set it right.
He most likely has a quirky sense of humor, something akin
to hers, which makes him even more attractive.
But in some ways, he is completely different from her,
somewhat remote, so that she sometimes is puzzled about what he is thinking,
while hoping he is thinking about her.
This remoteness makes him seem mysterious to her, and even
more attractive.
There is intense sadness in all of this, trying to make sense of how a person as immensely talented at she is, gets trapped into horrible situations like the one she appears to be trapped in. She is not alone, of course, just much more talented in so many more areas than other people I know, who had lost their way. I’m most struck by her poetry, writing and music. She apparently is a good an artist as she is a poem and as good a photographer as she is an artist. So, what went wrong? Her poetry talks about giving up on finding love and spending her life alone, something her Facebook account seemed to reflect when she reopened it up to public scrutiny. How much of this is real or permanent, I can’t tell. But she certainly is involved in a conflict with someone, and it’s horrible to think that someone with so much love to give shouldn’t be able to find anybody worthy to receive it. I listen to her music and feel the passion in each of her songs and wonder if she wrote ...
I had a good excuse not to show up at the main office; I chose not to use it. I refuse to surrender public spaces just because I’ve ceased being one of the select few picked to access more private ones. I have the feeling of war being waged one I hadn’t wanted to wage in the first place but could not afford to lose. This was only partly personal; rumblings outside the paper spoke of a cabala of wanna-be power brokers in one of the northern towns, rumors claiming they had an “in” they might be able to exploit. I kept thinking of the somewhat mysterious “RR” who had become an important source for a number of our stories about what went on there. What I found out about him did not bring me comfort. Inside our organization, I saw a similar power play, moving pieces in corner office politics I had no part of yet somehow had gotten dragged into, our boss out of maternity (in the guise of some concerned resident) sending cryptic email and other messages criticizing the performanc...
There is probably more going on in this nugget of a poem than I can see, perhaps the marking of some anniversary to which I am not privy or if connected me only marginally. The poem alludes something in its title that had become a kind of mantra during our early interactions – especially when I suggested things could not possibly work out between us. On its surface, the poem seems to explain as to why she needs to live her life, moment to moment. In some ways, this is a sister poem to the one she posted three days ago with the combined sense of inability to control something and with a certain fatalistic sense of not to try. The poem personifies time and the image she uses strongly resembles those old-fashioned cartoons where the shadow detaches itself from its host to take on a life of its own. In this case, the day rushes ahead of its master no matter what the master does to hold it back. Meditating or else, the day just won’t come back to whom it belongs, and sudde...
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