I didn’t know her. I didn’t really want to know her. It was the idea of her that pulled me in.
***
Times
I forget
Of times I slept
Dreaming of amber trees and lightly hooded thieves
Who crept through the ice like so many
of the things I want.
Some things are too good to be exposed,
like the embers hidden
or the curve of your hips,
making me wonder
if you taste like toffee
or maybe
you’ll look as pretty
as i think I might
picture you might
be.
I could say I know hunger
I’ve cut myself on it,
teethed with it until my
adult teeth grew in.
I’ve let it slumber inside me,
fearing that stirring it
might drive it to drain me from
the inside, consuming me until
I let it feed on the skin of my favorite
person of the moment, or maybe
I can just hold it against the wall
and take it, in a pressing of flesh
or maybe its you, I’m holding.
Yes, quite.
Wow…every time I mosey over here to read you, I’m in love with your poetry! I think I figured out why…you remind me somewhat of my favorite poet, Pablo Neruda. Keep it up!
I love this poem. I could feel it. Most of all, I love the way you have written your introduction at the side. I am drawn to dark men, those which do no harm intentionally but own the power to if they so choose. Heady stuff.
Thanks for stopping by my site earlier. I am indeed, a very bad girl.
I was never crazy about poetry until I read some of your work.
To put it in simple terms, you’re quite amazing. Thank you for doing what you do.