A dangerous love affair

The calendar on my table top,

Verdana prints,over some vague landscape,

 Multi hued, against the glossy, beige veneer,

Reddened weekends,bold,

The rest ,paler,in teal blue.

Poorer cousins.

Two full columns i count, purposefully slow,

Before i see you ,again, whole and full,

Your rounded face, poke marked, 

Reminiscent of adolescence,

Now chubby and luminous.

Then past two columns , more, i count,

When i would see little of you each day.

Those long hours of waiting.

The searching eyes sweep across the

dotted azure,turning  rusty, reddish, grayish and inky 

by the minute,for a glimpse of you.

You think little of my anguish and

like carefree days of kid hood 

once more you naughtily

entice me with your peek-a-boo

flooding me with memoirs, a one too many.

In your completeness, I rise above the forces,

hopelessly enmeshed, gravitating onto u.

In captivation of numbed impulses,surging adrenaline,

racing,to a glorious climax, like a super nova.

Binding, Blinding,white noise,in a stellar union.