Hiding in the bathroom at work and crying over a guy.
Office Bathroom, City of Emo-Ville
Population: V
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
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About Me
- Poetry of Flesh
- Los Angeles, CA, United States
- Love Sonnet XI
Pablo Neruda
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me,
all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Oh hon. Tears are good and cleansing. They release all that bad energy that some people carry around with them for years. But it still sucks.
ReplyDeleteYes, yes it does. But talking with you allowed me to bring some things to surface, emotions that I was burying. So it was good, ultimately. Allowed me to recognize what I needed to do.
ReplyDelete