deepundergroundpoetry.com
Dare This Angst
I didn't just write you in
on my calender
I tore that day out
and carried it in my pocket
And every night, it lay
crumble-folded, beside
my keys and lighter
upon the goodnight-stand
I'd lay watching
for it to come to life
To open itself
and be you, in flesh
A miracle from the peak
of my dream hours
Tho it stayed idle
with those other needed things,
I watched it
become a certificate
of impatience
Those words upon it
had etched themselves
from your mouth
to my thoughts
to the page
Save the date
you said
I started saving everything
My best manners
(For nought, we know)
My clever conversations
My sincerest intrigue
The eagerness
of my body
And a key on a string
of yarn, hanging
like a necklace
from the porch light
-It opens the night
since the door was already unlocked
(I followed today home
to make sure it had
the right house)
Upon meeting,
your aches to my angst;
No more windows to alter
our views of one another's
willingness to trade ourselves
No more tapping the glass
silently pleading
to come to life
-A chance to bloom
along the vine of time
Brave enough to pluck a new song
from another's heart strings,
Sharing words
that were once only shells
Sitting upon the edge
of the closest chair,
your hands stuffing the bottom
of your coat between your legs;
Let me take your coat
it's warm enough in here
It's April, feeling like August
and it's all you've wore
(You hurried)
Let me take your coat
Your body is a menagerie of dares
I cursive my name a hundred times
within the condensation upon your spine
as your kisses swallow my sighs
And that threshold
that is only ever crossed once
between any fortunate two;
We are never again less than lovers
If this is to be the only once,
my eyes will always be open
when I say your name
A smile will accompany them
If tomorrow happens,
we can purchase fish down at the dock
and I can read the bloody news
from the wrappings
I will let you braid my hair
and string it with fish bones
and gull feathers
I will be yours to adorn
I will cradle your hips to my loin
when we tire of catching fireflies
with our eyes. (It's the stars,
playing sparklers with our eyes)
No matter, we are lovers now
The little things that will make
our days a Christmas tree;
Adornments proclaiming the day
that we created our holiday
If you go, never go
The key will be under the flower-pot
No one else will want that cactus
None else will know
quite this smile
That you gave to me
To have this feeling
of you wanting me
-To run out and buy
more pens, because
I circled so many squares
on a less rigid calender
To bend our bodies
so that the youth that lack,
would gasp if they knew
such daring acts
To leave nothing
to chance...
*
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