A ball of human.
Found hidden beneath muscles.
Tendons just get in the way.
Ligaments are expendable.
Breaking bones create symbolism.
And your eyes, widening in surprise as I found it.
This is not the first of our rodeos,
but it may be the only one that matters.
Dance with me, do si do.
Wear your heart on your sleeve,
just to see if that's where it belongs.
I can create shadows with matches,
I don't need the ones under your eyes
to lure me away from my dreams.
I would take out the "surely".
ReplyDeleteIt's bad ass, as I expect from you. I enjoy it when you make up phrases in conversation ("ball of human") and then incorporate them into your poems. Nicely done. You're making the language yours.
I have a place in mind to submit this. I'm sure the editor will want it; no pay, but you'll have tangible proof of publication when he gets around to putting out the next issue. Good for the ego. (Which, clearly, we both need... more ego.)
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