Image for the poem wild is a lonely girl

wild is a lonely girl

some fantasies should be stood up against a brick wall,
blindfolded, & shot at sunrise.

she loves me. more than she ever loved, & proves it by
word & by deed. if I were a man, I would love her, I suppose,
but I don’t know how to love. what I know is how to hurt her.
that, I can do.

she ran away from her darkness to find me.
she couldn’t recall how long she’d been walking,
but it was a long time.
she didn’t know how far she was from home,
but it was a long way.

in my despair, I pour a drink, aged whiskey in a shot glass; tamp
down a smoke & light it up. in the gray air, I see the naked bodies
of women who brought me French kisses & dirty sex. they came
to be fornicated, or beaten. I gather these elements & hold on tight,
they make good poetry.

so her story & mine run together on these bleak nights. she gets explicit
in her desire, her obsession for the bad names that make her beautiful.
our love-lock is a slipknot, raw & gritty: it bruises our skin & breaks our
hearts. but we can’t do it enough, & we can’t do without it.

she wonders if I will ever make a place in my heart for her,
but she knows I’m a soldier  –

a soldier of loneliness & sex…

(Art: Carlo Tarchiana)

Written by JohnFeddeler
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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