i see you
on the street
or with your head bowed low
and i think you made a joke.
i want you to be
perpetually smiling,
lost in laughter and
your bright shimmering teeth,
the sweetness of your mouth,
so familial,
so tender-warm-mine
(or was)
you cower
in the street
with your head bowed low
and i think to how
i owned
your sweetness
for a little while.
i am still stunned
when i think
how lucky could i be?
it was him
who wanted me;
him and his
ovarian sweetness.
(i am in love with love
my dear.
i just wasn’t in love with you.)
Copyright 2016 Golden Star Poetry
Golden Star Poetry 