(no subject)

[claire_writes]

this boy
bakes me
cinnamon dusted,
love crusted
plaintain squares
at midnight
before he closes
the eyes of the grill
and scrapes off the
char and tar
of the dirty, hungry
filet loving
day-

this boy
leans through
the hot window
on the brink
of roasted clams
hands me a tiny
cluster I quickly
stuff in my big
black pocket
without looking-
he smiles,
don't say I never
got you flowers.

and later I dip
my finger paws
into the
surprise bag
of my tobasco
splattered apron
and find a tiny
bunch of mint
flowers
visiting the
thirsty soil
of my
filthy hands.

this boy
gives me the
last bite
of his key
lime pie.
I eat it with
a cocktail fork
to make the
neon zest
last
a little
bit
longer-

this boy
is a thirty year
old man
with the
tender eyes
of a trampled
twenty year old
ready to be
dragged
through
a thousand
other beds
of love
coals-

this boy
smiles and says,
who are you
going to pick on
when I'm gone?

this boy
invites me
for bikerides
under the moon
the roads
garnished with
dreaming
alligators-

this boy tells
my soft insides
that squeam
at the sight
of boiled lobsters
he's making
baby seal skewers
for dinner-

I could never
date or
cook for you-
this boy says
you vegetarian
who hates
corn cumin
vinaigrette and
finds my finest
salads
bland-
never
he shakes his
tough neck
grinning-

this boy
grabs me
and swings me around
before I leave
and says
no kiss goodnight?

this boy
has cheeks spotted
with peppercorns
and the rough
scrape of oregano
flakes
when he says
goodnight Claire.