24 hours left
You and me
Me and you
Until we leave
In two very different directions
To two very different places
24 hours to talk
24 hours to kiss
24 hours to see
In how many ways
Our bodies can tessellate
And sleep,
Your knees behind my knees
Your chest against my back
So for a while
We can pretend
That we are going in the same direction
20 Dec 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Portrait of a Shirt
In the day, it belongs to him
Its soft crispness accentuates
The angles of his masculinity
Its uniformity defines his place in the world,
his belonging
In the night, it belongs to no-one
Discarded quickly when lipstick stains
Begin to grow on the collar
In the morning, it belongs to her
Its size, shape and gentle creases of wear
Veil her femininity
Between the bed and the bathroom
Her perfume will remind him
Until it fades away for good.
While she hides away,
Mascara stains appear on the cuffs
Bidding a goodbye
That lasts long after she's gone
It lasts until the laundry's done
Its soft crispness accentuates
The angles of his masculinity
Its uniformity defines his place in the world,
his belonging
In the night, it belongs to no-one
Discarded quickly when lipstick stains
Begin to grow on the collar
In the morning, it belongs to her
Its size, shape and gentle creases of wear
Veil her femininity
Between the bed and the bathroom
Her perfume will remind him
Until it fades away for good.
While she hides away,
Mascara stains appear on the cuffs
Bidding a goodbye
That lasts long after she's gone
It lasts until the laundry's done
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