when i first saw him
he was wearing untied boots without socks
sauntering across a hilly grass field
to calypso music playing in the
background or my imagination
i was so overtaken by his spirit
when he brought me home that
i succumbed to drowsiness for three days
curled simply into his armpit and
danced upon the galaxy
when i awoke he was massaging my feet
checking my reflexes for sun damage and
soothed my soft bruises with a milk plate
he kisses me in the morning with enthusiasm
and we share a room for breakfast as he
teases me with ecstasy eyes and i'm
no longer nervous around strangers
last night i danced across his bedsheets
he giggled and rolled his eyes at me as
i stood with the light of the sunset shining
behind my ears his rhinestone eyes locked
into mine for more than a moment and
my knees went weak my fragile hips collapsed
reclining into his chest like a middle eastern
pillow
i think his sweaty neck is delicious
as i sing to him through a vibraphone
in the magical kitchen
licking his skin clean i'm bathing
him in a sunbeam stretched across the tile
beneath the bay window
although i'll never understand why
he leaves or where he goes i know he'll
always return to me as the sun grows cold
and the white moon begins to weep her new
lust onto the blooms in the front garden
and in the meantime i keep myself warm
wrapped in a ball of yarn talking in circles
to myself spinning and catching strands of
cloudlight in my unsure hands
when i finally see him in the driveway
at the sky's edge picking flowers for me
the confusion melts away and the pain
from my wonky leg becomes
suddenly forgettable
as i watch him putting on clothes
in the morning just before dawn
or towelling off after a long day away
my eyes play with him and i let him know
how i feel with my body aroused
merely by his tone of voice nudging
him with my cheeks on the tight spots of his ankles
he is beautiful and strong full
of compassion and i'm so afraid of
being alone again i'll do anything
to squeeze him and keep him so
i scratch his back every morning at 5am
exploring the sharpness of his shoulder blades
to remind him of the things
we can do together
and to make sure
he's still alive
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
when i first saw him
he was wearing untied boots without socks
sauntering across a hilly grass field
to calypso music playing in the
background or my imagination
i was so overtaken by his spirit
when he brought me home that
i succumbed to drowsiness for three days
curled simply into his armpit and
danced upon the galaxy
when i awoke he was massaging my feet
checking my reflexes for sun damage and
soothed my soft bruises with a milk plate
he kisses me in the morning with enthusiasm
and we share a room for breakfast as he
teases me with ecstasy eyes and i'm
no longer nervous around strangers
last night i danced across his bedsheets
he giggled and rolled his eyes at me as
i stood with the light of the sunset shining
behind my ears his rhinestone eyes locked
into mine for more than a moment and
my knees went weak my fragile hips collapsed
reclining into his chest like a middle eastern
pillow
i think his sweaty neck is delicious
as i sing to him through a vibraphone
in the magical kitchen
licking his skin clean i'm bathing
him in a sunbeam stretched across the tile
beneath the bay window
although i'll never understand why
he leaves or where he goes i know he'll
always return to me as the sun grows cold
and the white moon begins to weep her new
lust onto the blooms in the front garden
and in the meantime i keep myself warm
wrapped in a ball of yarn talking in circles
to myself spinning and catching strands of
cloudlight in my unsure hands
when i finally see him in the driveway
at the sky's edge picking flowers for me
the confusion melts away and the pain
from my wonky leg becomes
suddenly forgettable
as i watch him putting on clothes
in the morning just before dawn
or towelling off after a long day away
my eyes play with him and i let him know
how i feel with my body aroused
merely by his tone of voice nudging
him with my cheeks on the tight spots of his ankles
he is beautiful and strong full
of compassion and i'm so afraid of
being alone again i'll do anything
to squeeze him and keep him so
i scratch his back every morning at 5am
exploring the sharpness of his shoulder blades
to remind him of the things
we can do together
and to make sure
he's still alive
this is a poem my cat wrote for me. her name is Petunia Snodgrass Wifflebaum
Request permission to use this poem