That Obscure Object Of Desire

[J Hillenburg]

That Obscure Object Of Desire



I am weary and forever in a state of fear

that influences my every thought and deed.

I am unreasonable, straining to appear

competent and wise, unable to be deceived.

I was wrecked by disasters all too common now

that leave their ancient mark upon the soul.

Giving free reign to my passions, all they allow

that rob a man of his patience and self-control.


I am baffled, uncertain, insecure in this place

where the judgements are often most severe.

I was tortured and heart-sick and sought to erase

the symbols of my vocation, focused and austere.

You appeared to me in endless, inventive forms

that I failed to understand or properly know.

I am wayward and lost in this season of storms

that brings me to experience, my love I bestow.


In the lyrical twilight that touches the edge of night

I will meet you again, I am sure, in days to come.

Into a sanctuary of voices I will summon and invite

all hearts broken by trial, their passions so numb.

I will believe and allow you to touch me once again

with those inconsistent hands that left me weak.

But upon your motives I will momentarily depend

and you will know my desires before I even speak.