Tuesday, September 28, 2010

quarantine. (A Secluded Poem)

I refuse to be the cat lady

I don't even like cats

They're sneaky
And tumble down steps like slinkies

Already, I'm invested in a smilie
Building metaphors
WHEN does the literacy end?

That's what they usually ask

When we're lying in bed
And he's stroking my hair
And I'm stroking........
my keyboard

And those six pack abs
That would've melted me
A couple of years ago
Flip to face his night stand
Accompanied with a sigh
And then snoring

When did I become so numb?

Where your kiss becomes a bother
And that tingle down my spine is believed to be just gas
Your cologne an intruder
Could I be any ruder?

Or perhaps, were you?

In the two years you've gone amiss
Did you actually think my stomach would twist the same way for you?
And those butterflies hadn't reverted back to cocoons?

Like a military wife waiting on a shore
A message in a bottle
A husbands body returning in the shape of a flag

I salute you for leaving
I now know I can breathe without you
Even if it's easier with Riesling and a journal

Ink wasted
On inebriated love poems
My drunkenness slurred between the elements
Barely legible

I prefer single sobriety
We work well together

Even on those nights...
You know....those....nights....
Where academia and profession
Slip from arms reach
And palms are grasping for something more

No double entendre
No personification
No you
No cats

Well maybe just one.



RelationSoup (Nicole M.) said...

I am loving that poem!! I can feel the emotion and the scene from the words you chose! Keep them coming!

Veronica said...

Really feeling this! Great job!


Danielle Renee said...

It's funny because a month ago I was contemplating on getting a cat....ayyyye!