“Love”
Love:
hard-worn, fought-run,
beneath your reputation
lies the innocent specter
an elegy for a raccoon,
an open wound
wraps the pictures,
tears them to floating tears
lingering on a moment
frozen for all echoes to grasp
dented by miles
of dimples in your backyard
the freckles and strawberries
while ladies glow luscious
down bittersweet paths
under awnings of sour fruit
the creepers relax the vines
the ivy I knew cold fish lips
awakened the ripples
the carriages of spider women ,
the sparrow of zeroes,
at cream cheese
and cucumber sandwich parties,
my white gloves covered in my blood
my lacy petticoats sink through my skin
my doors, through the drool, let the cats loop scalding hot
over a crib game of desperation
the scabbed breathe of a wish fulfilled.
nicholauspatnaude 
Leave a Reply