#josie
I've never liked my name,
so I tell you to call me Josie.
The O, an arc over the roses of my childhood
the garden in the front yard
where I fell asleep listening to Ravi Shankars' sitar.
Slipping, dead to the world, among the night blooming jasmine.
A beautiful thing.
Tonight,
future uncertain,
the stone weight of your head, adrift in dream on my hip,
feels a comfort to my blues.
A beautiful thing.
Napoleon for his Josephine,
can feel
the breath that you leave heavy on my thigh.
A beautiful thing.
Nov 2, 2019
Nov 2, 2019 at 2:48 AM UTC
If the only sound we had to hear at night
Was the sprinklers
Wouldn't things be so easy?
No, we just have to have those pesky kids playing Josie at 3 AM
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 8:33 AM UTC