1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.

Treat me like you would your fingernails
Bite me without pause, a nervous, natural cause
Let me peel your fruit's skin, tear its precious flesh
Study me often, even when there are prettier sights to see
Press me into you when there's that itch
I become ***** and sharp, but you know how to fix me
Put me up to your head and run me through your hair
Attached to your hands, a naughty awakening you can't escape

-cj

There are bare-breasted women
lounging in the unmade bed
of my mind.
They teach me chords on the piano,
and how to stay grateful
in the face of time;
how it lingers between seconds,
but years go by unannounced.

We don't make love. We ****,
taking back each wasted Sunday
spent talking to G-d,
or waiting for political truth.
They run their fingers over my back,
send me to a sleep
of dried sweat and loving violence.
They send me sunflower seeds and ****

in the post,
so I can bloom by the open window
and feel warmth through winter.
There are powerful women
laying down the law by the clock tower.
They stand up for Syria
and challenge the authority
I had conjured in my mind.

I gave in to temptation and fell so far from grace
I've lost all innocents and shame
But that's the price you pay for love
It's sometimes so unjust and unkind
But the forbidden fruit
It always tastes so good
Well isnt it strange
How much we gain
From all the sadness and the pain