Love words birth in hunger,
gnaw a plastic pipe
behind the washing machine,
escape in dirty water, a flood over black and white.
They smell of earth.
Is it love that
dashes across the living room?
A tiny body, frantic -
and you armed with spatula,
stand on a chair,
a life animated,
a house alive with an uninvited guest.
And if this love, this him,
skips the stairs to your bedroom,
nestles amid satin pinks
and rose scents,
a heart almost cleaving?
And if you corner this beast
what would you do?
Chase him away,
with a smile watch him flee,
to lie listening, dreaming shadows,
a stain on the carpet.
Clothes are draped over the rocking chair,
silk brushing against cotton,
and when you turn to touch him,
his eyes are like the Autumn chill
and you shiver. |
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