My list of what
I want in a man is
incomplete.
incomplete.
One who has a heart
beat
Who can do the Michael Jackson
moonwalk
Who can spit
saliva or
poetry
poetry
Who wakes and aches but
not like my father
not like my father
Who quieted his pain in
his oak drawer
chock filled with samples of
codeine
his oak drawer
chock filled with samples of
codeine
Who didn't think anyone knew
But I did.
But I did.
Who sweats
Who tastes
Who swallows
me
Who carelessly
carefully caresses
me
Who slurps red wine from
my navel
my navel
eyes closed
Whose delicate wreckage
endangers
me.
Whose lashes
catch drops of
cool rain
catch drops of
cool rain
Whose bare shoulders
defenseless
defenseless
absorb rays of
sun to beckon
sun to beckon
me.
Who craves salty popcorn and
cherry Icees
cherry Icees
Whose nest is
his respite
his respite
Who believes in ghosts
the Loch Ness monster or
Cinderella.
Cinderella.
Whose words are
a cadence, a scale,
a cadence, a scale,
a flowering.
Who walks or
runs or
screams
in whispers for
runs or
screams
in whispers for
humanity.
If dogs could talk
what would they say to me
If cars could drive on their own
where would they go
If I could fly
would I soar?
i think "this is not a love poem" is, somekind'a
ReplyDeletei like it.