Brownstone Blues

i watched you drool out of windows all summer,

you cited pathology and masculinity:

you’re a wildfire amongst

candles.

 

there is no stitch or sew, no pattern, no

souvenir.

 

my dresses were streaked with grease. i carried your

cross and your rifle. i married your father, slept in your bed.

played sibling, mother, wife, matron, mistress, and

Mary.

 

there was no use in teaching you to tie your shoes.

you prefer bare promenading. you prefer splinters.

 

i watched you spit secrets into your midnight coffee.

a pretty martyr,

divorcing my empathy.

 

cracking your eggs into a skillet too small.

polishing your marble

head for glow and not utility. 

 

asking yourself questions in the shower.

unable to exhale without my patting your back.

kissing your own chest.

leaving my hands to twist together.

comfort.

 

the tapestry, foreign made, bred upon,

you’ll find an undone sinew

perhaps from

 

the one time i looked up to

see you

seeing me. 

Reviews

[Sir Drift & Mr. Pulse]

Passion and lust, what is the difference? Well, there can be many, and there can be more. Just how beautiful it is to know that the person you seek is able to be found. Theres moments

[Shy Joe]

WOW! This is great. The metaphors and passion! My favorite line is, "you prefer bare promenading. you prefer splinters.".

Absolutely love this write. Thanks for sharing!

[luna rose]

thank you v much! how sweet!