it’s like a piece of meat you could go on chewing forever and
kind of fat but not yielding either.
im stuck here, im wondering about
if there are people around that look like you.
wouldn’t that be nice
i fit perfectly into you like a glove.
enough about metaphors
you don’t spare those.
i typed in “how to stop feeling vaguely sad”
into the search engine and i got
your name is archetypal
smooth like all those biblical fighters
there are a million others named you
but you bring a different stodginess to it
like brown bread,
like the piece of meat i could
go on chewing forever and never swallow.
i am taking into account the fact that
i have never said hello to you,
and that’s fine.
i am fine with living inside a cold apartment in new york
watching you move from within my window
wall to wall, mirror to door
you, getting dressed, putting on an old robe
reading a book,
flipping the set, clenching your jaw like you do
i don’t know if it means anger,
or if it’s just a nervous tick you acquired
waiting for buses, for trains.
i hold your hands, like gloves into my hands
your hands are on my waist
and i can breathe again.
then i turn on the corner of the street
and i see the cold condensed wind of my breath
and i turn around, remembering it is not really you.
Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry