I treated you like any other girl

And I wanted you to want to **** me
and maybe you did
but you also fell in love
with my weaknesses and
that wasn't the plan but
what a relief it was
to drop the get-up.

My vulnerabilities were
delicious and your short-comings

****.

If I could sculpt one memory
I would sculpt your eyes

looking like an enemy looks
at their foe's demise.

Looking lavishly and certain.
Certain, like a child

looks underneath a Christmas tree
expecting surprise.

But you were engaged when we met.
Teenaged and so wild

And still those counterproposals
Trigger sorry sighs.

Can I imagine a future home
Which brothers and sisters could loan
And bring their blossoming born and bred?
And play and dance and keep well fed?

Could work be kind enough to bring
Dividends for me to spring
A coup to conquer the village's heart?
With smiles from all my parts?

And bring my multitudes of strings
And teach the young to strum and sing
And build a body: strong and bright
So God will keep them in his sight?

I am averse to scheduling
But sometimes love is a roof: therein
Lie memories to study and
Transform into the promised land.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

My mother tells me that we will
Never be friends.
Today I believe it.
Love poisons our blood
And familiarity kills
conversation.
I look at her emotionlessly
So to block her influence.
She is an expert at exploiting
The slightest ****** waver,
Or any emotional advantage she
Could have over you.
She will make you wrong
Through verbal martyrdom.

I won't let her speak to me
Like she does the weak who
Are too polite or too submissive
To fight her.
Her style of English is cutting,
Self-righteous, honest, rude, unscientific, emotional, aggressive and often violent.
Never elegant.
She thinks the world is a battleground.
She is often incompetent and on top of that headstrong - to compensate for her ignorance.
She is sometimes funny, and sometimes kind.
She tells me we will never be friends.
Today I believe it.
I will not confide. I will not smile.
I will not joke, I will not listen.
I will help but I won't speak.
I will keep the talk small.
We will never be friends.