run with me down field, he said
I'll love you like a doll.
and when it ends, I promise you
I won't even call.
I hate that I can't smell the outdoors of you,
I can't hear you talking in your sleep, or reading
poetry aloud, or see you shining the flashlight through my house
and I hate not touching you,
your belly,
your face. and I hate that you intellectualize my grief. And I hate secrets
and I hate cell phones and hallways and 7-11, I hate the pictures in my mind,
black vans and pupusas and bossa nova and I hate
tenor voices. I hate that I understand you and all this hate
run with me down field, he said
I'll love you like a doll.
and when it ends, I promise you
I won't even call.
and I hate most of all that you came into my life a hurricane
and ended up rearranging my landscape so that every day I loved living
and you watered my dessicated lawn and then you dissipated,
and only destruction was left behind, and memories of excitement,
violence, and joy, and the something,
unspeakable but something, powerful of us.
run with me down field, he said
I'll love you like a doll.
and when it ends, I promise you
I won't even call.
The flower is not a doll,
ReplyDeleteWe take for an object.
The flower is not a mistress,
We love secretly.
The flower is not a cup of coffee,
We throw away after use.
The flower is not 7-11 fast food,
The flower is a home made,
Sprinkles of freedom and independence.
It is not empty,
It is full of poetry.
I want to smell it,
Like a bee does.
I want to caress it,
As an evening breeze does.
I want to feel its presence,
To believe in life.
The flower is not made of plastic,
It is real .
The flower is the beauty of life,
without it is night.
A flower defends her ideas,
It is jealous of her freedom.
If a storm will come,
I swear I will defend her,
Her friendship for me is sacred.
A lovely, a gift. Thank you! This is beautiful insight and kindness.
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