July 8, 2015

the poem ahead...

the poem ahead

I never tried to assimilate 
pointing out my need
at least in the manner 
that she suggested 
I might want to with...

instead I foraged 
this slow stumbling 
circuitous path kneaded 
to rise, line by line...

bent and needed 
preying on poetry 
prayers preen pockets 
in the dark 
fingers fumbling 
through hair...

articulate props
these silhouettes 
of cities
are rumpled clothes 
in the dark 
what we had become
when an outside 
went all in 
district red...

no, I never left 
the suggestive unsaid, 
instead I wanted 
you to know 
my eyes knew too 
why you came here 
wanting to do
wanting to give 
wanting to live 
in the moment
wanting ever wanting...


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