When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your *******,
the doubled purple
of your *******,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.

i sit across her
on the round table

i see her delicate hands
twirling on the spoon
on this ethereal summer noon
when she looks incredibly pretty
beneath the cobwebbed ceiling
amid the Doppler noise of the city
her eyes on the coffee
and mine on her.

as i drew the curtains
felt a crawl on my hand
that fell on the bed as i ******.

then saw the other of the pair.

i shoved the duo out of the bed
hoping they won't land so far
as to not find again one another.

past my initial reaction
i felt ashamed of the stupid act
and remorse,

for having wasted the time
it took them to be close.

They see you falling,
and say "look!, he's flying!"

They see you drowning
and say "look! he's reached new depths!"

They see your skin beginning to rust
and say "Get your **** together"

You realize that loving me could have killed you, but you still do it anyway.

n.e