he is a complicated lover
that i never asked for
but fell into my weak and welcoming lap--
a seraph stripped of wings
so i licked his wounds clean
picked the maggots from my teeth
pressed him against my mothering breasts
and from them he drank
'til his belly swelled
and eyes buckled
under the weight of satiety.
from time to time,
he tries to flee--
his toes curl around
sycamore branch,
and confident, he leaps,
and the light that once filled
his sooty eyes is
hysteric and he flails,
before my thighs can cushion
his imminent fall.
i'd like to think that he loves me,
but i wouldn't want to kid myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment