12/14/08

Snow

Love me like Gary Lightbody

tell me you are grown
up
while you write only slightly
more
than mediocre poetry about me

crack the world between us
into tiny little planets that only
song
can express

make me
run
like Carver's peacocks
while the wild wind beckons
shrill
and forlorn outside the triple
glass

drag your icy fingers
down my throat 'til they
meet
addiction
running
in bloody rivulets between
my breasts, then
sing
us into oblivion or
ecstasy
on the selfsame
note

make them
wonder
who I am


© s rogers 2008

1 comment:

  1. Oh, this is marvelous; it runs at me, whips me around a couple of times, and then leaves, like a whisper.

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