Peddler of the Moon

I can't believe I fell for it 

Or for you for that matter

I mean, how blind was I not to see

What was I expecting from an encounter online

Naive or what; stupid and reckless also

How did I know who was actually sat on the other side of the screen

Why on earth did I let my guard down

Did I actually delude myself that you were interested in me

I may as well have had desperate or lost tattooed across my profile

I swear, I felt your words reach through the screen and shake my soul

Or was that your line....oh I forget now; it matters not
 

Your flattery and banter became more desired, more needed

Your attention, the highlight of my overshadowed reality

Your poems, first responses to my own, came thick and fast

Each one filled with more undertones of love and innuendos

Passion flowed through your words cascading over my body and soul

You had become my muse and I yours

Our conversations spun golden in verse

You became my first and last thought ......I fevered for you

You confessed to feeling it too; your term was "kindred souls"

A connection which, you said, you'd never known the like

I fell deeper, insatiably, with sheer abandonment of sense

My inhibitions and pride melted more with every lingering word, sent 
 

Without warning, your words grew sparse
I could see your attention drifting elsewhere

The tides had turned; waves of doubt crashed down and I was left marooned 

Drowning in quick sand of imagined, bitter-sweet dreamed-up love

Your words, once penned for me, scribed now a different tune to ring in another's ear

The empty message box became a deafening void of echoes of your once soul quenching words

My bubble burst; my sense restored, even in the twilight, all was clear

What a romantic fool I'd been to believe 

A poet, armed with a merchant's patter, enough to defy the gods 

Words slipping off your silvered fingers; pages and pages of fabricated fiction 

I should have known there was no rhyme, in truth, no reason

Anyway; I remain unscathed as, after all, it was never even real

No damage actually done; no tryst, as such, had even occurred

So I slipped away, unnoticed, leaving you to continue to peddle the moon

To some other lonely dreamer or, should I say, another word-blinded poetic fool!

© Debbie Razey 2014