WRITE ME SOMETHING
ABOUT SEX
Jewels piled up in corners like sugar-cane,
there where the Shropshire Lad once played.
Music behind the scenery, just slightly off-echo -
a melody made maudlin by use. The
cat, curled on a shelf like a letter, heeds nothing.
You and I, by contrast, going at something only
the half-light knows - wild fantastic sex, a rutting
through piles of laundry, a tumble on a wide sloppy bed.
As if needing something more, you take a cup from
the cupboard in another room, and fill it with some
sweet tea - nothing I like - but you, 'needing a break'
sit still while you drink it. That's OK with with me,
having to catch my breath, gain some solace, as I get
ready for a renewed bout of fierce longing.
ABOUT SEX
Jewels piled up in corners like sugar-cane,
there where the Shropshire Lad once played.
Music behind the scenery, just slightly off-echo -
a melody made maudlin by use. The
cat, curled on a shelf like a letter, heeds nothing.
You and I, by contrast, going at something only
the half-light knows - wild fantastic sex, a rutting
through piles of laundry, a tumble on a wide sloppy bed.
As if needing something more, you take a cup from
the cupboard in another room, and fill it with some
sweet tea - nothing I like - but you, 'needing a break'
sit still while you drink it. That's OK with with me,
having to catch my breath, gain some solace, as I get
ready for a renewed bout of fierce longing.
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