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Affectionate Notes

Two poems about our desire for affection.

April 19th, 2019 | Creative Writing

Mystery Boy

By Sacha Fattor

Who are you, if not the sweet boy

Of all my hopes and dreams

Here to fulfill my desires

Of love and happiness to be?

I raise a glass, a toast,

To our unstable and unknown future

Which lies deep in the subconscious

Of a heart that has been through enough

And I am but a simpleton, made to be cursed

To not know the feeling of your touch

For I am but a speck in society

That shall never measure up to thee

Instead I sit in my room and write

Imaginary love letters to a frail

Heart I will never meet, nor will

Ever have the pleasure to call my own

For this is the curse we suffer with

Due to owning a full heart demanding

Love and a mind, considered anything

But simple, to keep us company

I write to you, mystery boy, for I am

infatuated by thee, and would gladly

call you my own, for do the small

issue of your nonexistence not forbids us

But When Have I Known Anything At All?

By Anonymous

My mind is saturated--

Eyes infatuated.

Your own still haven’t faded

From grasp. I pass this time

With you in mind, your words

In mine, we pass the time.

And I can’t understand how I’ve spent

Even half of the nights of my life

Without your mind to be lent

To me, to be leaned upon.

Eyes reach through

Infinity. On and on;


My hands in yours feel so small;

But when have I known anything at all?

I wish to grip, I fear the fall;

But when has knowing been a thing at all?

We create this space, this secret call;

But when have words meant anything at all?

This little infinity was built

From you and me;

We still reach, but we can’t see

In this space for you and me.

This space contains and separates;

Intertwines and dooms our fates.

Nullifies and defines our state

For longing leading to distaste.

For my mind is saturated--

Eyes infatuated.

Your own still haven’t faded

From grasp. I pass this time

With you in mind, your words

In mine, in time we’ll pass.


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