1.
FAKE
Silicone cookies make sad
memories of you. Like human tissue out
of color, something loosened
away from real breasts once you held tightly in love; now a dull
object, out of your breath and tongue.
“Let’s just fake it,” as we are
not each other’s anymore, like robot apps that asks, “How are you doing?”
Sorrow grips in the afternoons,
like suns fading away and hiding… And I,
still, would ask you, “When will you come back?”
rosevoc2. 1.17.2012. on a
Thursday
2.
STILL NIGHTS
You called away from home, those
serene nights of longing. You wanted to
see me, those dead nights, like Michael Furey’s love. How we dreamt, how we gripped each other were
tastes for our tongues. My fiction in solitude
is when you held every piece of me like hardened throbs. You were succulent in my heart and in my
womb. My memory can never delete you,
because from the dark hole, you saved me. Your love sufficed. I still love you.
3.
FOR US, A LOVE PROSE
(Inspired by MacLeish’s
Ars Poetica)
Cold evening of grey snow
You and I like stars hooked on a moon comb
Bliss of hearts innocent as dawn, wise as dusk
When the moon climbs and the sun slides,
-
A poem
be.
Two as one locked together
Espoused in bed in cold December
Not all too soon, but in slow embrace
Immortal and free, one, our hearts
-
A poem be.
/rosevoc2. on a thrusday and friday, january 2013
all in first drafts -
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