coming:
(a matter of degrees)
she's coming soon to visit me
i can't wait until she
comes close to the point of the climb-max
again
to be honest it took us both
the longest time
(always close and then not quite)
sometimes she reminds me of morticia adams
sometimes, bjork
like a model, like actresses, always different angles
making different faces
(like cut glass.)
when she left for a big city in the midwest
she rarely emailed; rarely called
(got comfortable, reacquainted herself,
reconnected with that boy who took such good
care of her contingency plans)
gentle, wet, our sex was.
and then rough and then acrobatic
she didn't care about the odd stretch mark
or my blatant unhipness
didn't care about the ultra thin, ultra tall, ultra pale goth barkeep girl
ogling her jessica rabbit bettie pageness
"you're so fucking sexy!" she screams, wild-beast, make-out, spank,
toppled over fuckparty
then, on that last night, volley back my newfound agressive advances
all the way to the morning.
to the airport.
small hug like a soccer-mom as she hugs her hairdresser goodbye.
short appointment. job well done.
this makes me wonder about girls, 'cause don't we all
want that coddling, that princessed'ness?
who, then, will turn yang? who'll dote? who'll be the fortress?
this small little dommegirl got me buying collars,
waxing rhapsodic about SM dynamics.
re-enacting romance among ghosts and graveyards.
got me
believing in punch-drunk love laced with the safest,
and most sound kinds of lust
then left me, lone.
coming back to my planet, now,
i know we will scoot across the coast
in my used lexus,
traipse through wild nights with my moonroof's mouth open,
cold air stiffening our nipples and hardening my
resolve to find the most fantastic
magical, wild-in-love-with-me and just plain wild
love of my life
(knowing in my heart of hearts it will not
be she)
4 30 03
-by Be.
(a matter of degrees)
she's coming soon to visit me
i can't wait until she
comes close to the point of the climb-max
again
to be honest it took us both
the longest time
(always close and then not quite)
sometimes she reminds me of morticia adams
sometimes, bjork
like a model, like actresses, always different angles
making different faces
(like cut glass.)
when she left for a big city in the midwest
she rarely emailed; rarely called
(got comfortable, reacquainted herself,
reconnected with that boy who took such good
care of her contingency plans)
gentle, wet, our sex was.
and then rough and then acrobatic
she didn't care about the odd stretch mark
or my blatant unhipness
didn't care about the ultra thin, ultra tall, ultra pale goth barkeep girl
ogling her jessica rabbit bettie pageness
"you're so fucking sexy!" she screams, wild-beast, make-out, spank,
toppled over fuckparty
then, on that last night, volley back my newfound agressive advances
all the way to the morning.
to the airport.
small hug like a soccer-mom as she hugs her hairdresser goodbye.
short appointment. job well done.
this makes me wonder about girls, 'cause don't we all
want that coddling, that princessed'ness?
who, then, will turn yang? who'll dote? who'll be the fortress?
this small little dommegirl got me buying collars,
waxing rhapsodic about SM dynamics.
re-enacting romance among ghosts and graveyards.
got me
believing in punch-drunk love laced with the safest,
and most sound kinds of lust
then left me, lone.
coming back to my planet, now,
i know we will scoot across the coast
in my used lexus,
traipse through wild nights with my moonroof's mouth open,
cold air stiffening our nipples and hardening my
resolve to find the most fantastic
magical, wild-in-love-with-me and just plain wild
love of my life
(knowing in my heart of hearts it will not
be she)
4 30 03
-by Be.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
glorybox111:
I'm in awe right now that is probablly the best thing i've read of yours. Hell it's now my new favorite poem.
ebin:
You are mighty.......