Strings

Written with the wonderful Ward Clever. You really should go visit him right now, read his work. Go on. Get off my page and go see what he’s up to.

 
https://wardclever.wordpress.com/curated-poetry/

We can’t get away,
Can’t get along.
We just sit silently
On this sailboat,
Where there’s no wind
And neither of us
Will move the oars.


Every touch leaves us with splinters.
And the words just sit on our tongues
As if they were canker sores. And

I know I can’t go back.
I can’t zip up who I am now or
Who you will never be


If I left and came back
Would I notice a change in you?
Would my absence make a difference?
Wind picks up, carries you away.
While I swim for the shallows
Going slowly to shore.

This salt water I drink,
Leaves me thirsty for more.
Just like you left me craving.
If I could pull you close,
Press this heart and these hands to you.
Maybe you’d rise again.
Would you see how much I want you?

Do I deserve your touch?
One last time, or ever?
The holes in the clouds,
Remind me of your gaze.
The last time we parted
Before the door closed.

The same door you walked out of.
I never even watched you drive away.
It was the one last time,
I awoke to your breath on my back,
And your hand on my hip.

The warmth running over my body,
Feels like you.
The sting of the water
Hitting my skin,
Reminds me of your kisses–
Your touch

To which we always filtered,
But why?
Why when you feel something so right,
Do you let go, lose sight of?
Instead, murder me with your mouth, hands, tongue, hips.

Slicing my throat with your kisses,
Stealing my voice.
Making me speak your desires,
Wearing strings
Happy to perform for you.

You aren’t my puppet.
I won’t carry the weight of you.
But, you can lay here, next to me.
And my strings.

 

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