honest, the ones that hurt the most to write
are the self-love poems because
they remind me no one's around
to do it for me. they're also the most rewarding
to finish for the same reason. sometimes i sit at
the hickory writing desk my grandfather built
waiting for clarity to be chirped out of the bulb of a
trumpet or true love honked longingly from the
fever nose of a saxophone but it never happens that way.
instead i write my feelings -- veined hand curled
around a crude pencil with gnawed erasers at both ends.
or idly scratch the flowers from the wallpaper
while the moon looks down like a twisted bottle-cap
smashed in half by macho fingers into the gray
asphalt sky primping its reflection in the pond,
i think that someday i'll learn to love myself the same
way, by facing all my bad parts in the sharp mirror and my
friends abandoning me. each time they do i hold church inside
my own individual heart on sundays or saturdays,
huddled tight on the first frozen december morning around
a hymnal fire altar, only standing to **** or light another
stick of peppered citrus incense. but right now
i've got a crumb of real turkish hash
and only spittle left in the wine bottle reciting Keats
to the empty moon-painted cow field across the brittle fence
and laughing with lilac bulbs pasted on my face, watching
a low cloud thread itself between the skinny
barbs of pecan tree fingers as i wander through
the orchard. the stars hop restlessly like chigger bugs
and sparkle raw in my
swimming-pool-blue eyes but the ones that
blink back really aren't stars at all.

i asked you if we could maybe just stay
like this a few days or spend forever
sitting on the roof of a camping pavilion
with water on my cheeks running from
my eyes & you told me to never cut my hair

we are above the surface of the earth
green & magenta in all directions & your daughter
whooping for joy below us dancing in softness
at the bright fire's edges always unfolding
she is your personal blossom & i'm
pulling the yellow ribbon from your hair
with my sunset teeth while your eyes
send me signs of warning

but our souls cannot resist each other since
i came back from snowy colorado
after learning all my mistakes in a single year
& that night we escaped your mother's
cigarette breath and found shapes in the clouds
like an elf looking closely maybe sniffing at a flower
as your daughter giggling swam naked in the river

today we're pushing boats across brown water glistening
in the sun & sweat droplets collect individually
on my chest & your daughter's forehead but you're
wearing a crown made of vines & wild roses
& absolutely smitten with love glowing in
sepia tones shaking a tambourine

we drifted along until the sky peeled back
& we're carried into wildness by the
fragrance of fungus & mud as we struggle
under the long tarp against the premonition of rain
while she chases invisible fireflies the fresh
curls you put in her head begin to wilt under the
weight of gravity & the afternoon sun at the
wet edge of the river it's near sunset & i'm
kissing your knuckles nibbling on nourishing
sweat & fingernail polish

that night after she went to sleep we stayed up
drinking whisky warm discussing liars
& lucid dreams & my desire + inability to grow a beard
as she snored a raw spring wind rattled our tent
& my body began to turn against itself stomach
decided to see what i was really made of & you
were at my back convincing me to stay open just
breathe & be myself telling me i'm not a criminal

this morning i awoke desperately clutching you
spinning on a new earth red-eyed & suntanned
dream-caressed & with morning trash breath but
i know your hands & feet become hypersensitive
just before waking so i'm burrowing under bundles
of clothes to find your curly cues smelling
like new pine needles & cotton

after breakfast you're lost in meditation over
the magic of this little girl dancing again around us
glittered mouth widening into a grin beside the river
we're sitting close together on a sandy beach
blindfolded by the magnificent sun rising
in an acidic orange sky with your gentle hand
at the back of my neck under a tree

& i'm focused on a spider
suspended shining in the light not accosted by skyline
thoughts & the murmurs of distant traffic
instead unraveling new wet silk against
the glare of sunstruck aluminum

i swear
but i'll sleep under your bed if you'll let me &
eat the dust in the crawl space between your kitchen walls
when you're entertaining guests &
only come out when they're in another room
or you ask me to

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i'm actually on this ladder fixing your neighbor's gutter
yes this same spot has been damaged for three years
& deserves a complex solution arrived at by
strenuous deliberation

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i'm not wearing the cologne you bought your ex
for christmas last year & threw out
into the aluminum trashcan six months ago
because that ******* didn't appreciate you
like i could

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i don't know how your mail gets mixed up with mine
at least twice a week the postman must be dyslexic
& also trade his mailbag with the guy who delivers mine
for five dollar bribes

i'm not stalking you
i swear
it's just funny we go to the same dentist &
you have such white teeth my mother would love
you if only for them

i'm not stalking you
i swear
this idea hasn't been growing in my brain since
i was an innocent boy spurting his essence into
a gym class knee high sock at night after
watching baywatch reruns

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i don't spend my days wondering if i should get
****** piercings
because you seem like the type to enjoy them

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i walk home this way too but instead
of a third floor elevator ride in a gated community
on the next block i'll continue three more blocks
west take the train back south four miles & finish
cutting through alleys for another mile until i
arrive at my own cellar apartment

it's not out of my way
i don't mind taking an alternative route

i'm not stalking you
i swear
but your cheekbones are stealing my sleep
& when i do dream you turn your ***
toward me not in surrender but
defiance that vicious
dilated ******* and heavy flesh
taunting me in my own
fleabed forever

to the girl who looked like new confetti thrown into a vortex
who went streaking around christmas trees with me after
the 1st annual ugly sweater & cheap tequila extravaganza:

i live inside a piano unable to tell the difference between lust & love
the only way i'll get to heaven is with the sun & your eyes on me
fighting for supremacy to write a poem & shout it at strangers
bursting from the ground like a masculine transcendental cornstalk
or a thin-***** blond haired man smoking a cigarette
with my hair in a bun finding new secret ways to touch you
my eyes closed & mouth open & armpits smiling skyward

your sweater blossoms now the way it never did in highschool
because your ******* are beautiful tumors that you bought
eyebrows plucked into gentle brushstrokes sent me into a fever-dream
you say you have scars on your ******* & i want to kiss them
after i tasted your raspberry lipstick daiquiri on a shared cigarette

i forgot my middle name when you leaned in & whispered
pretty things in my ear & your long hair teased my shoulder
you said something about a giant rumored t-bone steak but
i asked you instead to sing to me in the dark through a
shining steel microphone wearing a snakeskin trumpet
with your giant-bulbed headlights shining over the
empty shot glasses and half-eaten slices of lime
your hands dancing over the triumphant big pink ****-head
under the neon table beside your bar-lit bestie
bumping & dipping & snapping your fingers but
before my ******* mutilated your ***** bone
                                wait you said
please keep
                               the tv & radio on softly
my face tender-lipped like a deer shivering in your high-beams &
the shadow of my ***** growing up under your skirt
like a black horse bending its head to the stubble underneath your
belly button & around the hollows of your quivering knees

finally squatting on throbbing meat in my
bed at midnight doused in oil & fully on fire
your tongue orbiting around a hard universe
your marvelous face pressed into the seismic mattress
golden buttocks arched toward the sky like a skillful camera
my fingers sweep like feathers down your spine to your waist
shimmering like a teloscope in the blue light of the television

in the morning we held a funeral & buried my lips between your thighs
you are a beautiful new skyscraper untouched by wrecking *****
stiff-necked & wearing loose boots & an italian style blouse backwards shivering in the glow of the fireplace beside a big tall rock in the desert
your scent is still in my bed-sheets & now you are howling eyes
bloodshot & nagging across the fresh dawn prairie of i-10
                        toward         the       endless       coast

my ***** throb this morning
the way they do when a girl
demands to sleep in my bed
but refuses to cup them with
her hand or mouth or a com-
bination or rotation of both.
they hold pent-up anger or
cruelty, energy or love and
destruction that will be wa-
sted into the toilet bowl, or
a bed's sheet, or kleenex or
all three of these before 12.

May I rest in your calmness
                                       Bathe in your peace
Replenish in your happiness
               Find home through your gateway

          Find ME

                     In the stillness

Breathe in

          Gratitude

                 And
  
                       Exhale
  
                                 Joy

©Tina Thompson