8898 My Prediction Comes To Pass: We Work Together

by Neftzer

Mr. Sark Writes Love Poetry. Thinking Sloane dead, and Sark the root of his undoing, Sydney walks into the SD-6 conference room, only to face both, and be formally introduced to Mr. Sark for the first time.

...written as though by Mr. Sark...

#8898 - My Prediction Comes to Pass: We Work Together

We have a secret,
Delicious, heady as helium;
our shared past
A narrative only we've read,
reminiscing on nights spent solitary,
tossing under covers with the memory
of meetings, slick, sticky, visceral
in their portent.
Interrupted needs that go unnamed

Your blue top the color of my longing,
Suffocation's hue, denial's tint
Your cheeks drawn, long in the effort
to hide thoughts at the sight of me
Did you wish to shout my name?
Loud, powerful, in emotion's thrall,
Abandon this well-laid charade?

I dream you had given me voice, staccato
as an umpire, triumphant as the lover
that you are: loved, my Heart, my body's Own.

I dream of prophecies; Rambaldi's--
and ours, that each day
we further spin, a Lover's knot
entangled: We work now, in tandem,
voices silent, still
sensation ever-present
taut as zither strings,
engulfed as flaming tanker;
for the flesh translates that
which the tongue, though willing, cannot.

---

Disclaimer: This work is not affiliated in any way with the ABC spy series Alias, or, for that matter, Mr. Sark, whose poetry--until such time as he wishes to make it public--remains unsung, unfeted, and largely unknown.
by: Neftzer 2003 (c)
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From my website, Mr. Sark Writes Loves Poetry royaltoby.com / alias / sark.html