Absences

A Poem by Shawn M

My first post. Had a hard time picking one, so I went with one a very trusted poet told me I should try to have published.

Absences

There is a man. Picture this man in a field, where, as Mark Strand tells us, he is the absence of field. The absence is dressed in a black waistcoat and he’s looking at you like he wants your body. He definitely wants your body, but not in the sexual sense, singularly. This absence in his white top hat wants your body for science. He wants to bend your bones and break you in two and bring you to new thresholds of pain. For science. He will pull out your pieces like cogs in a tiny clock to study each one. For science. And then, the absence will want your body in the sexual sense. Do not give yourself to this absence yet.

II.

There is a man. Picture this man in a field, where, as Mark Strand tells us, he is the absence of field. This absence wears a white waistcoat and a black top hat and he’s fondling himself while he looks at you like he wants your body. He definitely wants your body, too, but in the sexual sense, singularly. He will bend you in all the ways you’ve dreamed of being bent in your naughtiest fantasies and your entire being will taste his every touch like a traveler lost in the desert that finds water. He will love you like no one else can. Do not give yourself to any absence yet.

III.

There are two absences. Picture them in a field, where, as Mark Strand doesn’t tell you, they are men. These men are fighting because they both want your body. Their waistcoats are tangled together as they battle for your body. You can only help one of them. Give yourself to one of these absences now. Or you can run, run away from these absent men that want your body, one for science, and one in the sexual sense, singularly. The men look to your for help and you choose to run. Why did you choose to run? They needed your help. You’re heartless. They cry as you run and you don’t even care. You make it to the city where you find a hotel and lay crying yourself, as the men battle in the field where Strand would say you are no longer an absence.

VI.

There is a knock on your hotel room door. An absence stands on the outside. He is wearing a white waistcoat and fondling himself while he waits for you to let him in. You let him in. You shouldn’t have let him in. He has now decided that he needs your body and because you didn’t help him, he’s going to take it. He continues fondling himself as he forces you to the floor and bends you in all the ways you didn’t want to be bent in your worst nightmares. As he is bending and forcing your body to taste his touch, you see an absence in a black waistcoat walk in. They decided that, since you would not give yourself to one of them, that they would take what they now needed- your body, one for science, and one in the sexual sense, singularly. You should have given yourself to an absence.