[176]

Inside the Love Poem

A first glimpse. A handshake across a
not-so-crowded room. A sure I’d love to.
A seam coming unraveled in your skin.
A needle to thread with silken nos and to
get lost in the haystack of your hair. A dragon
on the dresser that glows orange and rock
when the lights go out. An I’m never going to
fall out of love with the way you set fire
to your eyes every morning. A pillow full
of stone cold promises. A dagger. Another dagger.
A vase on the table. A bouquet of yellow and gold.
An open the window and bring me a canary.
A moment. Another moment. We’re supposed
to kiss here. I steal your teeth like breath.

~

It’s August, MotherFuckers! 

Image taken with iPhone by accident. I am really good at taking accidental photos.
Words written on a post Saturday, post perfect wakeup and pre novel writing.
Ears On the sound of someone else’s texts arriving every thirty seconds.
Time Taken six minutes?
Brain On Um. Yeah. Something?

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This entry was published on August 4, 2012 at 9:36 am and is filed under August, Poems, Seattle, Self-Portraits. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

One thought on “[176]

  1. Hal Davis on said:

    I’m never going to
    fall out of love with the way you set fire
    to your eyes every morning.

    We’re supposed
    to kiss here.

    The eyes alight on you each morning. A kiss, alive.

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