Tag Archives: imagination

Welcome Packet

Dearest lover,
I have compiled
a list of instructions—
a user guide for this body
you claim to love—
know first
that my heart
is not filled by you—
you alone do not feed
or complete me.
There will always be
an unnamed vacancy
beside you.
Please know
my time with you
will never be enough
and will often be too much
and I will need
to recede into solitude
where I will suffer
from regrets
I will never share with you.
I will expect you
to read my mind
when I am silent—
and when you can’t
I’ll withdraw from you
for a while
until I remember
you can’t see
into my imagination.
When I re-emerge
I’ll require copious
amounts of affection
and will need
to give you even more
than I receive.
Know that I will need you
more than you need me
but I will never
show it.





You Wonder

You wonder
if you’ve ever
been imagined
into someone’s day
someone’s life
someone’s fantasy—
have you ever
been wished
onto a plane
or into the woods
or into a warm bed
on a winter night
for a connection
that had nothing
to do with sex
and everything
to do with love—
and you wonder
if even once
you’ve been wanted
by the one you want—
if even once
there’s been a match
in this universe
that could have
saved your life
pulled you up
and out of despair
but both of you
believed the other
deserved a kind
of perfection
out of your price range
so both of you
ended up here
on a blank page—
one of you writing
and one of you
reading into it
whatever you can.





“Waiting by the Window” by Carl Holsoe, 1865

Blank Spaces

It’s so easy
to love you
what I know
what I don’t
doesn’t matter
but it will
one day
I realize you
really like
the way
I _____
and I find
I can’t really
I could live
and we don’t
the way I thought
we would
and you
feel _____
because I _____
and maybe
we will
all those
blank spaces
we packed
with our
didn’t match
the truth
that filled
them in.






The now
is hardly ever where we are.
We can be found
at most times
in the future—
planning the outcomes
of imaginary encounters
with those bodies we’d like to
acquaint ourselves with
after we exhausted the use
of our minds—
which so easily forget
that one day
the past is the only place
we’ll have to live,
and it’s best to leave it tidy
and pure.




In the Dark

Oh, you.
You who exist
so flawlessly
in my imagination—
I want to ask you
I want to walk
into the woods
with you in silence
and return days later
with an understanding
of what it means
to live a holy life
without guilt or gods
or fear of the dark—
which is where
you’d teach me
the correlation
between ecstasy
and restraint—
the way restraint
is the home
of eternal ecstasy—
and the imagined touch
is the only one
we’ll never tire of—
the only one
we’ll never need
to plant or water
or make a place for
in the sun.


The Unescaplable Mind

The Unescapable Mind 

Some minds

I’d like to step into,


knowing that what I’d find

would be truly astonishing—



to anyone else’s consciousness,


ideas too beautiful

to be reduced to words or art or music—


visions so perfectly formed

there isn’t a single corridor


clean enough

not to muddy the exit


or straight enough

not to rip off its sharpest edge.



DeMaris Gaunt