eye

I started to write a poem for you,
it started with I.
There
l(i)ed the problem

*

staring at the ground
it wasn't sadness
but me checking my reflection
in silhouette
.
.
.

You're so vain
[I] bet you think this poem
is about you.
Don't You
?

[I] bet. This time
eye bat harder than you punch,
Yeah? Throw my weight through a wall
form a rabid hole; wink.

rabid hole
two months in to this sit.
fucking found its way
in to every activity
like a pair of stale sugar cubes.

after brisk walks, or yard sales
cafes and metroes. stop.
your bedroom
my hole

you gotta be fucking kidding me
are you fucking serious?
i don't fucking know.

You would have thought
we were Alice
fucking every damned thing
between here and home.

pretend everything is all right
between us
spaces exist
for the sake of existing

(eye) wanted; to see your face
(eye) wanted; to see your face
(eye) wanted; to see your fuck
(eye) wanted; to see your face

sore and uneasy
torn; some muscles sigh
grateful for a break [in time]keeping steady
like riding a bicycle on second wind

or

returning to an oil painting
raising a hand in question
a night of awkward sex
turning off the lights, alone (again).

*

I started to write a poem for you, (again)
it started with I.
There
l(i)ed the problem