I was sick of being a woman,
sick of the pain,
the irrelevant detail of ***,
my own concavity
uselessly hungering
and emptier whenever it was filled,
and filled finally
by its own emptiness,
seeking the garden of solitude
instead of men.

The white bed
in the green garden--
I looked forward
to sleeping alone
the way some long
for a lover.

Even when you arrived,
I tried to beat you
away with my sadness,
my cynical seductions,
and my trick of
turning a slave
into a master.

And all because
you made
my fingertips ache
and my eyes cross
in passion
that did not know its own name.

Bear, beast, lover
of the book of my body,
you turned my pages
and discovered
what was there
to be written
on the other side.

And now
I am blank
for you,
a tabula rasa
ready to be printed
with letters
in an undiscovered language
by the great press
of our love.

Oh, that's rich
Yeah, you think I'm a *****
Well have you spoken to your girlfriend lately
Her, the only one you let call you baby
She's so lovely, just a peach
Thank God she ain't nothing like me
"Loyal, devoted," she keeps public face
Faker, cheater, been all over the place

I might be loud, I might be troubled
At least I ain't walking all over you honey
Sorry you're blind, sorry your fooled
She is the one ******* every other dude
Maybe I'm fractured, just shy of crazy
But for you I'll always be here, waiting