Sunday, May 20, 2012
it's just a scratch
fear not. I am not all fat, blue, trembling lips.
part of me is actually blushing;selfishly pink.
I am at times, like I was when I was a girl:
all scrapes, all teeth, roaring.
do you remember me this way?
of course you don't.
you never remember anything
even though you were there.
Now the girlish part of me is hoping
what I've said makes you so uncomfortable,
that you itch in only inconvenient places,
and your nails lack the fortitude to scratch.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Tickle your toes. . .
-
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
-
Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
-
sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
-
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
-
as I left the waterfront and I climbed up the sandy stair as always his brothers were first; to greet me. I've had past dealings with th...
-
The Anchor for Joel When love embarks, with its generating propellers slicing through the interminable oceans of imperfection that are, for ...
-
Reminder "You do not seem to understand," they'd say "That rivers are wide, and are not so easily crossed, we fear, they ...
-
Private Edgar Perry for Edgar Allen Poe I reported for duty, a Bostonian, surly, moody, unsteady. Twenty and two, not eighteen, Yes, twenty ...
-
in August for John Keats I didn't die unrequited. I took a wife in August. My wife was wearing silky white shoulders holding out her bon...
Poets United Contributor
No comments:
Post a Comment