art,  Asher Jay,  contemporary art,  Garbagea,  poetry

My Chronic Condition by Asher Jay

This original artwork was created using scans of napkins that were stained with paint from cleaning brushes that were used to render other canvases in progress. To me it represents both process and the pulse of the remainder from an equation, much like love. So I wound up writing a little poem about the feeling that fueled the piece:

My Chronic Condition:

Asher Jay

Cannot function when you are near
You’re in all I do and say, it’s clear
I am wrapped around your little finger,
Thoughts of you do make me linger.

Every word you utter a cerebral kiss
Your eyes spin my world off axis
When you smile it starves me so
A Johari’s quadrant I’ve yet to know

Think of you no matter the day
My shaking hands, give me away
Your touch leaves my body buzzing
Localized seizures are not a blessing

You’re both cause and symptom severe
If only I could profess, I love you dear
Your absence results in withdrawals
You laugh and it costs me my vowels.

Can’t you see how you impact me
My chronic condition, you’re all I see
In you I find that I do belong
With you my phrases turn to song.
I miss you so much I lose my breath
Like sickness seeks untimely death
My chronic condition, can’t you tell
I love you like molten warm caramel.

My prescription states there is no cure
I want you, of this I am plenty sure
When you go silent, my thoughts clot
Your lips my calling, I’m overwrought.

With every cell infected, I’m a mess
You affect my story, I confess
I’m a glowing, tangled, confused heap
You fit my story; I’ve no score to keep.

Just falling for you feels like a win
My ribs are too small to hold you in
So I am glad you’re in my every pore
I’d clone myself just to give you more.

Without you I feel less than one I fear
I feel minus though my whole is here
I miss you like I’ve never missed before
You always leave me wanting more.

Can’t you see how you impact me
My chronic condition, you’re all I see
Your every caress stuns my frame
The New York skyline spells your name.
When we first met I lost my head
You’re in my bloodstream and my bed
My chronic condition, I am done
If I were in orbit, you’d be my sun.

– an original literary work by ©Asher Jay 2012

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