Ovarian Sweetness

Standard

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

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