I’m holding on to you,
My dear,
I’ll never let you go.
But what if space
Is what I need? I may be
Here, physically,
But my presence isn’t present.
I love you
Don’t you love me?
Yes, but I
Love myself more.
I’m holding on to you,
My dear,
I’ll never let you go.
But what if space
Is what I need? I may be
Here, physically,
But my presence isn’t present.
I love you
Don’t you love me?
Yes, but I
Love myself more.
She sits on the wooden shelf
An unwelcome grin etched on to her face
As the people around her
Mill around the house
Go about their day
And pay her no attention.
She waits
Patiently with her stiff limbs
Hoping all day
Today’s the day
When they come home
They’ll pick me up off of the shelf
And play with me.
The hour arrives,
The family trudges in
One
By
One
And they begin to mill around the house
And go about the rest of their day
Without a glance at the shelf
Where the doll sits by herself
Waiting for love.
Words taking flight
On a trip, traveling up my throat
Flitting across my tongue
And playing at the tip
Where they brush past my lips
And escape.
But what happens
When there are no words?
A different form of communication
Evolves without trying.
Your lips on mine-
The pressure, lingering, intensity
All signs that show me
What you want, need, desire.
A secret code, no-
A secret passed
From one pair of lips to another
A conversation that lasts a lifetime.
This language is our own.
I’ll seduce you
With my words
That kiss your ear
And tickle you with pleasure…
Until you can’t get enough of me
And require instant gratification.
With no romance or bedside manners
We’ll go all night
‘Til the sun peaks through the shades
And wakes you.
Then you’ll walk out my front door
Only to be heard from once more
But never seen again.
Because you got what you came for-
Hip bones clashing
In the heat of the moment.
And I got what I wanted-
To be loved
No matter how briefly.
In front of me
You stand
In black and white
A 50’s dream
With suit-clad arms by your side
Raising up
As if lifted by clouds
To rest on my generous hip
And outstretched hand
As the music begins.
Behind me
Stands my past
With magnified eyes
Waiting for me to get lost
In the distraction of music
And misstep
Landing a sharp-as-a-knife-heel
In the heart of your foot
So they can shout
I KNEW SHE WOULD HURT YOU!
But what’s behind you?
I can’t see
For the room is too dark
From the extinguishing sneers of my past
Reducing the fiery passion
Creating tension between your body
And my own.
But I want to know so badly
Regardless of how hard you try
To stand in my way
I’ll step to the right
And see your face
I’ll step to the left
And you’re there with me.
Hold me close until the song ends
Until then,
We’ll keep dancing
In time and rhythm
Side to side.
In love,
Sames give
Gaining height.
Motionless
(Forgetful)
Yearn his glance here-
I’m timid
Under his firm eyes.
Newly unearthed, unclothed,
The first touch
Of my sleeping dreams
Woke fate.
So beautiful it made me weep
Vainly, I cried.
Lifting mountains
Creating valleys-
Joy!
He Praised the moon
As I sang with desire.
Joy.
Joy so pure
Twilight would rejoice
In our shadows.
Keen.
Keen beyond conceiving
Strictly
There he stood,
My dream.
Flesh was blood-
A mile uphill,
And I could only smile.
With a gasp.
Scorning
Made me move through his anger.
Motions:
Forward
Backward
Side by side.
Arms extended humbly
Between foe and friend,
Between the foolish and the wise,
Immeasurable impatience…
Hold me closer.
Flames
Caused my will to climb
naked, bare, hungry
shoulders pulled against the dark.
Sorrow:
Look,
You’re still a foe.
Let us join blood and flesh.
Imagination-
A drug…
Giving a heart,
A mind.
Though dull, you taste bright
Though bitter, you are sweet.
Truth-
I say-
Love his soul!
Love him whole.
http://www.napowrimo.net/ NaPoWriMo prompt for day 26. Erasure poetry inspired by E. E. Cummings’ poem “My Father Moved Through Dooms of Love” which can be found here: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15405.