In 2003, when my returned-love found my name on the
net after 28 years, the computer was both my friend
and my enemy, forming a safe barrier to hide behind
until I found the courage to step into love again.

Computer Messenger…

Banter that backfired because
literal interpretations got lost
in considered connotations,
(re-read a thousand times)
of what went way-back-when…

Juxtaposition of judgements.
Hastily harnessed how-comes?
Stopping me still, seriously!
Making me question us both.
My passionate banshee tears

initiated by tactile responses
to words type-tapped carefully.
Sometimes in casual jest 
to test my reactions?
Is it natural to anticipate

disaster - dismissal and defend?
Not normally for me – I search
for more of your positive essence,
confirmation of my impressions.
I want you – all of you – now! 

Every nuance of normality
shared secretly, sensually…
But other stuff too – thoughts,
reasons, why you do what you do…
I can’t ‘see’ the whole of you

touch your skin - breath you in.
Sense your hands on my breasts
holding me, stroking me softly.
I want – I need – I crave to.

Insecurity inserts itself
firmly forcing doubt-feelings
to well and grow without witness,
until you answer; you calm; you claim,

cover my heart and soul with caring.
Linger in my love, lay there 
until we’re both sweetly exhausted
by this power, this perpetual passion 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2002

1st published in ‘Hidden Capacity ~ A Poet’s Journey’, Ireland, 2003