I Humbly Asked, but She’d Already Gone

Standard

will you read out my story?
i aksed, as my hands noticed she would
rub her thumb against another girls hands in
comfort, and id bristle.

will you read out my story?
i asked, but she shrugged and said
maybe some other time,
but i could see she had no time,
what with the movie contracts and the
cars and cabs and the
smoking up neon-colored lights.

will you read out my story?
i asked, but she’d gone off to college
reading about gender politics and the history of
film and all she had ever read about my life
never existed.

tender,
clear eyes,
clear-eyed and wan,
and all the girls who spoke in poetry
scarsely changing hands;
i cannot enter an embrace with her soft voice
or nest with her garden of poems,
or remember the way her limbs fell like gossamer fans.
(will you?)

Copyright 2016 Golden Star Poetry


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s