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my german
by Beth K HannahHow come i get to claim you
Even when you will leave
and you voice
Your skin
And your laughter
Will just be something I think on.
I've been your prostitute
Making you laugh
Stealing your micrometer
And ruffling your hair
Humiliating your shoes
And letting you take pencils
Hoping I leave a mark.
Half the time I want to slap you
The rest I want to
Keep you in a jar
So you cannot leave me
Unless you take me with you
And I live in your garage
I would give my summer and my fall
Just for that.
04/18/2003 Author's Note: This is a work in progress. How the hell can I put Erik into words?
Posted on 04/18/2003
Copyright © 2024 Beth K Hannah
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Cymbre Dolphay on 04/19/03 at 12:42 AM you can't my dear...but this is a good attempt |
| Posted by Martini Koy on 04/19/03 at 08:25 AM i can feel the longing in your heart, whether it is about to happen or is happening already... |
| Posted by Traci Mabats on 03/12/06 at 04:02 AM yes! keep men in jars. Its where they belong! Love this :) |
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