You, on the back porch,
smelling like soap.
I have been married to you for fourteen years.
I am all stain, all hush, all quiet and mussed.
I never hurt you
because I was faithful.
I held god’s hand through your pockets
Like a dreamer,
and I drifted like sand.
On the beach
your eyes will play a darting maneuver,
the fierce crashing against rocks like the sea waves to shore
closing into a submissive
Like a sorcerer, the sea splits.
All too soon I’m watering up,
but your hands are suddenly closing
and for defense, you say
“What did I do?
What the hell did I do?”
Some rough Explanation!
This feels like mud
This night feels like wind
against the stifling bed sheet,
and I’m dreaming of you
tasting the salt of you,
licking my lips to dive under the foam.
The lamp turns off
The lamp turns on.
Who are you?
I hope you like a busty woman
because that’s who I am.
The sides of my hips
grow to the edge of the blankets.
I am bloated with weeds,
with gross, sickly weeds.
At first, though, I was a garden-
touched, then untouched.
The first day that I met you, you were by the stables, laughing.
You were made of muscles,
then lastly eyes, filled with stern
“Might we duel? Me seeking you?
Seeking the sun? Seeking the old green devil?”
I wonder where you came from…
I bustle, and my new dress sparkles.
I bustle, and wear it till worn.
And the sequins fall like shards of glass (MAZAL TOV!)
And the sequins fly, sworn off like a swarm of bees
and I know that I am she, in the sunlit beach
smashing a seashell.
I thought I was laughing at our life,
or, what I thought it was.
Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry.