Thursday, January 18, 2007

callused hands.

and what is poetry anyway?
who writes it, and how do they really feel?
twisted and tangled emotions around my heart--
my waist, my neck, my legs.
twisted and tangled the sheets on your bed.
why not everyday?
why not tonight?

help me remember the night.
help me to remember why.
convince me we had more than a few good reasons,
we had music, we had shadows, we had the place to ourselves.
convince me there will be other nights--
there will be other nights.

just let me make the most of it.
let me make the most of you.

No comments: