Sonny
Ashamed. I am a child
in a black dress waiting
for your bed-time story,
and pyamas - as this space
has no room of my own -
yet it has beautiful belly books
it has ludicrously lustful letters
it has wonderfully wisy words -
however -
jumping off no cliff will not
hiding in the sand will not
help you - said he whose
voice weakened me - my head
upon the pillow, butcher's block,
upon the promise of his touch,
a mere body, awaiting -
in the nude my hair curling -
diving in - swept over by tide
by killer whales by time
by all the salt of this sea.
No comments:
Post a Comment