To a Boy; not passive, not present


You always smelled like Laundry detergent

and whenever I pass by the washing machine i feel


your smell was so sturdy

and chemical

like the packaging on a newly waxed flower.


how I wanted to know

what was under the petals

and the soil

that was burning.


I could imagine a strange embrace

with my end, a soft wimper

and your end

mute silence

and the sweet smell of soap

that never scratched the surface.


give up on me,

I’m giving up on you

I wish the smell was pine

that love affair of mine

the load coming out sweet like sap

the days on a riverside

bending trees

and a whisper.


but of course

how can i expect that of you

when all i can smell is the laboratory,

the one that’s antiseptically



Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry


One response »

  1. Pingback: Christmas Love – A Holiday Romantic Monday Post | Edward Hotspur

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