Monday, November 2, 2009

Verse: confrontation

Is Lisa what
you call yourself
when I am not here
to call you lover?

You know
the first snow
will not make me
forget that I
was a vagrant
before you gave
me shelter

You know
the night
which we are inclined
to romanticize
doesn't fall
for cheap sentiment
it merely settles in
like a deep raw rasp
in your throat

Did you know
I wanted to be verse
before the spoken word
was desired
but I lost my objectivity
when I was born
and waited instead
for love to make me
its servant

No, I was
never home
before I encountered you
and when you sleep
I am alone

Please wake me
in your indelible embrace
and soon
before I lose
my sense of longing

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