If The Benton Fits.....

[Guest guest]

Wisdom; Venting productivly is beneficial. Thinking and botteling up emotions is self destructive, so with this, I write..

Entry July 26

The thin skeletal moon reminded me,and the sharp electric starswhen I walked to meet you.And meeting you, your face, grim and implacable reminded me.And the studied way you controled pleasure,even when we had drunk,danced, heard swing music,even when you read my new poem to you.All these reminded me; A month had passed.A month, by the gaunt red moonlike the mark of an incandescent thumbnail.Your mind's cosmetic lay frightfully upon you,muddied your eyes and settled on your mouth.Entered your skin like acid.How will you be when you have fullytorn the rainbows from your eyes?Ah, we will be poor then you and I.Sorry and wrong, alone and poor,for all our righteousness and love we may have found in others.Yes I will be poor.What else not having you can mean to me?And as for you-All the things you cannot ever be,you are because my love is like the magic touch of

stars.You wear my loveand all who see you say “How beautifully his love becomes her!”

Entry September 12

When all the poems on the theme have been written,and all of the night and day dreams dreamt without prophecy or fulfillment,when hope sustains us no longer,nor being drunk or busyor therapeutically in love keeps us from remembering.When our new interests, our richer lives require quotesto qualify their meanings, and however hard we try,we can exploit our grievances no further to fortify their resolution,What will we do to keep madness sulking in the brain?When we have forgotten even why we parted,if we even knew at all-remembering however, when we could sleep nakedand be warm together,kiss, even with a cold,when baby talk became you... yes,and everything I said was sweet or funnyand everything you did was beautiful.

Entry November15

I knew your eyes by heart after the very first reading.I could repeat them in detail,remembering their elements in pearls and moonstones,in the dark wing of a starlingand the bright morning faces of asters.I learned your hair many ways.By the musk and visually.By the braille touch,I could tell which part of your body grew it.The under-hair fringing your face was sensitivelike thin smoke in a draught.Between your thighs it was natural and crisplike the hearts of lettuce.After one fitting only,I could cup my hands just soas if they held your face.Blindfolded, I could kiss a thousand mouthsand know your lips.I could tell time by your mouth's kisses, feel rich red colors,taste sun ripe fruits and know the seasons of the year.I took your body like a glass of sweet milk at bedtimeand my eyelids let go at the hinges when I entered you.You were all I and all of me was

you.My senses rhymed with your sensesand our bodies made music and gave light,as all things absolute.What is it that happened?Now that you are gone (and why).I feel I never knew you-though you fill me with terrible wonder,like the onset of madness...

written by Walter Benton

from ; This is My Beloved

copyright circa 1940