Sunday, January 2, 2011

#12 It's Not Right Yet

12 It’s Not Right Yet

I want to figure skate around your ring finger
I’ve been working on my double axel

I want to leave chunks of my voice in your car
I’ve been in re-writes about what I’ll say

I want to package my breath and deliver it to your eardrum
I’ve been looking for the right box

I don’t know how else to say it.
I can’t tell you any other way
I am fearful that you’ll forget me

I want to melt into your skin like a mini me tattoo
I’ve been stuck between black and white or color

I want to mold my mouth into a luminescent plaster with a ring for your keys
I’ve been indecisive on the right amount of pursing

I want to write you a poem that tells you I love you
I’ve been juggling words like a deranged circus performer

I am so scared you’ll forget me

1 comment:

  1. I'd rather ride a board than skate
    & risk slicing into the figure-8
    at the back of your neck.

    I'd rather leave an echo of your style
    below your poem and imagine you smile
    than meta-critically reflect.

    I'd rather comment here than see
    if space opens up inside your OKC
    mailbox (I still may check.)

    ReplyDelete