i want

i want your hunger
and your melancholy
and the different types of cheeses
stashed in your refridgerator.
and the glass bottles
that we drank
in your garden.
i don't like these boys
with their coarse ways
when he said to her,
the other night,
"i'm half in love with this girl
and her words
in the deepening night."
my special kind of poison
the promising of a story, or fantastic
romantic notion.
which became,
probing.
i want her fireworks
and rash irrelevance
and pig-headed ignorance.
and her ability.
i keep half my wage
the rest to my house
and the state of civil liberty.
no head high
in poetic philosophy.
i want your pale traces
left over my car seats
where the beach lived
and your head tossed restlessly.
i want all of this,
but mostly
the university library.
and the knowing glances
over the pages
of emily bronte.
the drives to the coast
in old clothes, weatherbeat
and chipped nailpolish
hidden in woolen sleeves.
i want your
wanting me.

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

i wish you didn't do this so well...i could be watching the travel channel