Day 95 of 100 Poems/100 Days

My Man

In sadness, I found him
and I chased him,
through the alleyways,
glimpsing only the shadow,
of a beautiful man
that moves like me
but quicker.

Out of breath, I warn him:
“Stop running
or I will set fire
to this entire city.”

We find a room of our own,
and build a fort on the bed,
out of sheets and sticks,
he tells me his first words,
and they seem oddly familiar.

Our limbs intertwine,
like parts of the same twin,
I kiss him,
and he kisses me back.

I trace his shoulder blades,
his long ribs,
his throat,
made for pretty words,
to speak pretty thoughts.

His taste reminds me
of my mouth as a child.

But the city finds us –
and pulls him out of my bed,
dragging him by the hair,
and I just carry his feet.

Outside, they give me the blade
and point to his throat,
his pretty words
and pretty thoughts.

I slice him open,
until I touch bone,
and empty him out
onto the street and sidewalks.

He says: “Long ribs and shoulders,
like the oars of a ship –
set the hull on fire,
so you’re always lost.”


2 thoughts on “Day 95 of 100 Poems/100 Days

  1. Pingback: What 100 Poems Taught Me | words vs. pictures

  2. Pingback: My Favorites | words vs. pictures

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