December 29, 2011

Untitled - Long Lost Ache

marred by color
by poetry

Um… iloveyou.
does it make you feel any better that i want to make you laugh
and i want to have you cry with me
so we can sob and tremble
like the nose on a nervous rabbit.
i’d like to share red eyes and visions
of where we’ve been
and where we’re headed
we could whisper back and forth
play mommy and daddy
pretend we’re alone
and no one shelters us
i wish we could make our own mistakes

could i crawl when i’m scarred
and curl up in that space between your arms
or in my den behind your soft eyes?

Can you tell me your life story?
And i swear i won’t ask too many questions

And in the perfect evening
nakedness would be more comfortable
the stars would be in technicolor
and the mosquitos in the neighbors yard

in the perfect evening
the birds would chirp till dark
and the grass feel soft and cool against my neck and arms

on the perfect evening
i’d be old enough to handle
him, the dusk, and our solitude
but young enough to have a first

a patch of skin
between “Ophelia, are you honest, are you fair”
and reverting to katehood

beads of sweat
strung necklaces on nerves
with a needle, thimble, thread and eye
with beginning training wheels
the tender who’s run by
coaxing, cooing, and arching

for the woman’s fishing net
to be cast into the sea
to reap or not to reap
but there is an answer

I was young when I wrote this, but I think it was about losing one's virginity and being in love.  I can't be sure.  There was a time when I wore this on my sleeve.  Time, it changes a person.  

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