what is it that draws me to
the one who sits alone in corners
and laments with his palms on his knees
in crowded rooms and doesn't look up
when i walk over?
i have seen you jealous for a lover
you have lost and pining over women you can't have
and when i offer myself to you, and press your fingers
into my hair and fast unbutton your ironed shirt
you look to me in fear or disaffected charm
and tilt your head in a way
that disapproves my need for men
who never want what they have before them,
who search for what they will not ever have.
so i implore you, man that i am better than...
what is it that you want from me?
shall i ignore you through the night and be
motionless beneath you?
would you like me to say 'no' when i mean 'yes'
so you feel like a viking?
i am tired of my fronts and guards
so i'll let down my hair and
let you know that you can have your way
and i'd just lay there
so you might stay.

02/08/2009

Posted on 02/08/2009
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