Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Poem

Sticky cheeks and sticky toes.
Hair that seems to never grow.
Soft like nothing else.
He'll have nothing else,
But me.

The smell of milk; sweet and fresh
Lingers on your slumber breath
Squishy with a heavy feel,
Fingers, fist, clasp of steel,
Slip on a banana peel.

I am so fucking enlightened
In the most cliched of ways.
Bring me a sari and a dot
I will show by how to rot
In a prison of your body.

Pull it together, oh wise one.
Are you wise like my baby?
I lecture myself to have faith like my child
Or maybe he lectures me
Or maybe God.


We fall asleep together
Smelling more like vinegar than ice cream
Despite my waking reproaches
Bliss approaches.

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