The Letter.

From the diary of a woman, in love, reassuring her man to fight alone and still be together.
Of support and future valentines.
A poem of fiction not far from reality.

-
and like daggers pierce hearts
maybe needles ought to stop sewing
is it the unraveling of a gauge bandage
like you unwrapped me to comfort
where I can bury my face
chest and aroma of a man so fulfilling
and fueling my feminine clandestine virtues
As you fall like a splash of
silver paint
and from it sprints a leopard
in its lazy stretch
like the woman clad in her bare essentials
I raise my heavy hips
to caress a lion
who ought to devour
and if I said I'd spend planting
poppy seeds in your memory
on a lonely highway
across a distant blue shore
with white seagulls
like the sheets of my bed
as you touched my
ripping it out of the vagina of my
dirty bruised mind.

Then again I would be the woman who sang
happy songs in her head all the time
and the rest of the time
which was it all
was spent keeping ashes together
so that we could reminisce
like a heartbeat
straight out of hell
the need to get out of there
like I smell the zing of
the offering of you
stepping down
a seven fold pedestal
what matters who
just not enough
that eve would become pandora

play with a xylophone
whistle into a pen cap
as I sharpen your pencil
so you can sketch me
in natures crest
beneath a waterfall
of rain drops on cheeks
with eyes oh so tight
washing me into your arms
as you gather me
and hold me straight
into a plethora of amber flames
like a bon fire
of passion
in all its glory
doused by the cold night wind
swooshing through your ears
tingling your nostril
as you batt eyelashes across
my chest,
stepped out of the shower,drenched.
Those drops of amber, colored in her skin, dripped down her back and through her legs.
Touching the most softest of flesh.


-
Of all the past that knocked upon the moonlit door in a house of lonely fears and
some bitterness.
And she stood, walked some more, running,breathless,gathering mist against her cold nose.
A mongrel to a gamut, a set up.
Laid her cards down, milked a few pups, the breed of a lion.
Roared to hear distant echoes from the past. Stopped, looked behind, lost way.
Now she rummages for left overs, they might be wasted morsels, but why complain, we all live a wasted life.
The bits that are loose, not tied.
On bits of torn paper.
Why cant we hold together, the leftover.
-


But she had worn her silk, to hide, what man and monster would fight.

a fruit was peeled
in grandeur of it being the only meal
savored in greed
like eating the best cooked veal.

-

And in the silent crack of a distant
lightning struck upon thy fate
lift me to the heavens

-

I shall give you mighty wings
Aphrodite was jealous alright
How could Medusa win Zeus?

So she cupped a sip
of nectar and swallowed
as she then walked out from
beneath your legs
and all was fine as you
lit the fireplace
and love was made
as a distant evening
spent in Paris
on a gondola with a tuneful
but mournful mandolin
that was intensely followed
by gasps of rhythmic
breaths, exhaled
as lips met
and beneath the pale cheese of moon
slightly burnt on the crust of
a hot pancake
I would cook on a lazy sunday
afternoon
as you tug like a tiny child
at my apron
pleading to rumple the sheets
I just made
what is that compared
or should
it
to the days when my angry
arms grapple
against you as I bite some flesh
and tell you that its my way we'll have
and then shy away like a pussy
who mews so innocently
as I pin you down for some more.
-

Pick up the newspaper
to read
and I shall sniff you up
like a pup
waiting to be fed
pieces of meat
and yelping in delight

-

As a drop of dew
runs moist
by hot breaths
across the satin of covet of skin
across the subtlety of my raised cheek bone
that beckons a kiss
you'll see why that
waterfall washed away
silent moans of pleasure
as you give her a wedding ring.

-

A purr, a lick
and then a lil chase
tail against tail
the cat slyly walks away
as I boil milk to make
us some tea.

-

The tea over which you gave me the woman in me.

-

As the raven coo's
you unleash
my tresses and tame
them as you bury a warm smile
into the fragrance
of jasmine oil and shampoo
doused in menthol cigarettes

-

And as the evening says good bye
and jack and jill
climb up the hill,
I shall climb my bunk bed
and run straight into your dreams
as you sleep in a distant city
yawning
like you used to in my face
and flip me over like a pillow
and bury me like entering my womb
so I can keep us safe there
as I wait for you to come back
so we can frolic
with the garden hose
and run around pretending to talk to birds
about our lil night out like teenagers
the night before
and now back in bed
our separate one's
I shall think of you
as the one who let me sleep
a lil longer
so that the sunlight off, the drapes of my room
that you draped to the end of the wall
that now are aflutter
would wake me up
and then again I shall still think of you
and let me sleep a lil longer.

Till you come back.