Friday, March 12, 2010


In the moment I heard you first call me Baby
I wanted you to peel me like an orange
listening for the noise it makes when you pull the skin back
back and make the fruit
when my breathing changes
It's the sound of a zipper in the dark
the click of a lamp right before you slide
between the cold sheets

And there in my kitchen pouring a glass of red wine
I could hear you whisper to me again
"I want you to be happy as you make me happy"
and the cold tile wasn't beneath my feet
instead I was above the earth
feeling you pull me, almost fainting
not wanting to give up any pretense
No need to be coy, instead only wishing to give
to stand naked there in the moonlight, Eve
armed only with a bitter apple of truth and the knowledge
of man's want
and when she heard the crunch she knew
the snake bite still fresh a little blood trickling down her leg
the pain passing quickly as pain often does
she was the mother of the earth
and he'd be naked with her there in the moment
and maybe forever

Just because someone is apart from you
it doesn't mean the love changes
the want to feel their arms around you
is no less real than the moment before they actually are
to pull the idea that you have to be guarded over your head
like your favorite faded garden dress
in those moments when you are who you want to be
your voice yours alone basking in the idea that no matter
what your dance is, that you are Salome seven veils flying
and if it cost someone their head, so be it

I never feel God around when I want him there
he's the cop at the coffee shop when I call for him
but then in quiet moments lost in poetry, planting, painting
the affirmation of why I was supposed to be here
I can feel his breath on my neck reminding me
and when I am too full of myself, too imposing
he sends a man along who will strip me naked
pointing out the rib
making me humble
and because love stories never ever end well,

Tomorrow I will awake shower and get dressed and
not be conscious of being naked
there standing in hot water I am safe
the curtain is drawn and I am back in the womb
covered in water, a fish
swimming through the drain upstream
back to where the world began and we were tiny
in our mother's arms sure the world loved us
just because we were vulnerable
and the world either crushes those that are weak
or takes them in and makes them strong
when you've done something horrid and your mother
forgets to tell your father
when you stumble and you feel the hand of the handsome stranger
lift you up just enough to get your footing again
when you reach for the brush and you aren't sure which color
how you will capture the moment
and in God's grace the paint finds its way to your brush
and without effort without even understanding the miracle
you are in the mind's eye and even creating that moment

Passion is a hurricane, it takes no prisoners
it makes kings weak, makes us wet with want and just when it turns us upside down
makes us wonder where we fit in the world before the want
it suddenly calms us completely and we start our lives all over
before I loved him and after he loved me back
Don't lick your wounds in public, move along smartly
jump up, and don't forget to smile like you're on the float
and everyone is watching
and you've forgotten the pink taffeta dress
in one snap decision fallen from prom queen
to whore all because naked felt right
when there are no clothes fine enough to cover your left shoulder
when we are sitting so close I want to open the button
on your shirt right above your body's button
so I can slide my hand over your side
and taste the sweet golden apple from your lips


Because pink is my favorite crayon...Thanks Gary. I can't watch this enough.


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