This is not a poem. This is a goodnight kiss.

This is not a poem. This is not a letter.
This is not a plea.
This is a negotiation. This is a good night kiss.

This is what I have in mind.

Open slowly for me, like stitches coming undone,
One at a time, soft and sweetly cut under the swift nick of the blade.
Make room. My hand to rest against your frenzied but now steadying heart.

One, two, three, four, five fingers. Palm. Stop.

The slimmest incision is all I ask. I go no further.
Come undone and let me unravel the onion of blood-beast-beauty within you.
I give you my word, I will keep you intact. My word, I said.

Did you hear what I said?

I have loved you this way: as if breath depended  on you loving me back.
Let me in and I will let you out.
For I have known many things but this: how not to be yours.

 

20140512-214312.jpg

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s