"I woke up this morning with a poem on my lips--
but then I blinked, and it was gone."Actually...
it's still whispering through me.
I think this poem will be with me for a very long time.
My heart is full with the words of it,
such a long poem, with all its letters jammed into the chambers of my heart.
It's a long, lean poem.
It's a more-beautiful-than-the-sunset poem.
I want it to be written in braille across my entire body...
so we can be read together, my poem and I.
I want to make love to my poem...
I want it to rearrange its letters so that it shouts out my name,
and then lands in puddles of bent and bruised syllables all over my flushed and glistening skin.
I want this poem to be tattooed in a spiral wrapping around my arm, ending at my collarbone; the perfect spot for lips to graze.
My poem is full of love--
not about love...but made of love.
My poem is my muse, and I am its.
I have to finish some homework and an article...
this grasshopper played away the summer and is now feeling the sharp bite of winter gnawing at her heels.
Happy Tuesday to you-- |
posted by Bored Housewife at
8:07 AM
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