Jacob wrote me poems:X
(this is the first one he wrote)
The one with the silly eyes and drunken teeth,
Splendid and round, with a ‘most capital air’-
Who drives sheep and horses wild when she spins in the dirt.
Yes, I’d like her, if you don’t mind. Yes!
The one who winked at the sun for staring,
Who insists everyone call her by a different name,
Who patters furious up and down empty churches at night.
How could I be more clear?
How many people do you know like that?
Do you wear a hundred dresses at once?
Tell me who would sleep on the floor
Because a bed is too high,
And will only kiss you if you remind her of something?
She’s the one I want, bring her here.
(and this one is about me and him and nature and other things. i'm just IN it, it's not about me.)
Sometimes I can feel so much and those trees
Scratch my arms and powder me with cold snow,
Kissing my neck and back, right down my spine-
Bump bump bump.
And those birds
Don’t look so high and brown, and wheeling down
Down to my face, the leaf rests and quivers
Dry and scratchy.
And those nails
On my chest carve lines, red as lipstick, eyes
Grey now, the moonlight filming them over
Like cataracts.
Sometimes I can feel so numb
And the lamp glares from under its shade
While a sound drones softly in my ear
As my tongue pushes on my teeth-
And she runs her hands through my hair,
And bites my lip.
(christ, i love him.)
The one with the silly eyes and drunken teeth,
Splendid and round, with a ‘most capital air’-
Who drives sheep and horses wild when she spins in the dirt.
Yes, I’d like her, if you don’t mind. Yes!
The one who winked at the sun for staring,
Who insists everyone call her by a different name,
Who patters furious up and down empty churches at night.
How could I be more clear?
How many people do you know like that?
Do you wear a hundred dresses at once?
Tell me who would sleep on the floor
Because a bed is too high,
And will only kiss you if you remind her of something?
She’s the one I want, bring her here.
(and this one is about me and him and nature and other things. i'm just IN it, it's not about me.)
Sometimes I can feel so much and those trees
Scratch my arms and powder me with cold snow,
Kissing my neck and back, right down my spine-
Bump bump bump.
And those birds
Don’t look so high and brown, and wheeling down
Down to my face, the leaf rests and quivers
Dry and scratchy.
And those nails
On my chest carve lines, red as lipstick, eyes
Grey now, the moonlight filming them over
Like cataracts.
Sometimes I can feel so numb
And the lamp glares from under its shade
While a sound drones softly in my ear
As my tongue pushes on my teeth-
And she runs her hands through my hair,
And bites my lip.
(christ, i love him.)