(no subject)
i wrote a love poem. its a work in progress because its for a class.
He`ge`mon`y, -noun: Expansionism in an Effort to Achieve World Domination
(def. 3, dictionary.com)
Her body is his world; so much time apart they spend it now not making love but playing falling off the bed slipping with hard wood floors on socks that remember.
The time on trains, new subways, new cabs, new times ahead of the same times that we have here etch in: her skin is canvas tan from sun through windows across the steppes and the stops are intertwined within her body parts.
England is her calves, her ankles - he starts there before they realize they’ve begun - his thumbs pulling muscle away from bone is the modern Middle East exhibit at the British Museum, her leg hair the Starbucks across the street; the ankle bones: the music they saw, unfamiliar hall unfamiliar crowd but same notes same thud never changing; the backs of her knees are Amsterdam.
It is too soft, too dark, too inviting - too often damp from hot apartments, hot taxis, hot hotels, and they don’t stay too long.
He flies from Holland to Cologne, smooth on her knees like the tracks groping across northern Europe and on the same train - she feels every mile his hands cover she knows what Russia holds she is stark for stretches like no where else; he cannot imagine this expanse
Her thighs play tricks - East Germany, Poland, Belarus mocking - disoriented, he allows her to push him off the couch.
He grabs her waist to swing back up: I am your America, he says
I conquer you, he says
I put up a good fight, she says.
Russia stretches from the far-east edges of hipbones to the soft skin between breast and armpit to whispery Mongolia where her hands are horses that he rides and the sand is in her eyes - they share a compartment that is cherry wood and dusty and zen music piped in like the bed wedged between the chair and the dresser and the table made of books
and her hair floats through it holding secrets found under leaves in Hong Kong
leaves like her lips and tongue and nose and forehead and discontent with China,
and he turns each one over on the night that he returns, confirming they were there with every part he touches.
i love you baby.
He`ge`mon`y, -noun: Expansionism in an Effort to Achieve World Domination
(def. 3, dictionary.com)
Her body is his world; so much time apart they spend it now not making love but playing falling off the bed slipping with hard wood floors on socks that remember.
The time on trains, new subways, new cabs, new times ahead of the same times that we have here etch in: her skin is canvas tan from sun through windows across the steppes and the stops are intertwined within her body parts.
England is her calves, her ankles - he starts there before they realize they’ve begun - his thumbs pulling muscle away from bone is the modern Middle East exhibit at the British Museum, her leg hair the Starbucks across the street; the ankle bones: the music they saw, unfamiliar hall unfamiliar crowd but same notes same thud never changing; the backs of her knees are Amsterdam.
It is too soft, too dark, too inviting - too often damp from hot apartments, hot taxis, hot hotels, and they don’t stay too long.
He flies from Holland to Cologne, smooth on her knees like the tracks groping across northern Europe and on the same train - she feels every mile his hands cover she knows what Russia holds she is stark for stretches like no where else; he cannot imagine this expanse
Her thighs play tricks - East Germany, Poland, Belarus mocking - disoriented, he allows her to push him off the couch.
He grabs her waist to swing back up: I am your America, he says
I conquer you, he says
I put up a good fight, she says.
Russia stretches from the far-east edges of hipbones to the soft skin between breast and armpit to whispery Mongolia where her hands are horses that he rides and the sand is in her eyes - they share a compartment that is cherry wood and dusty and zen music piped in like the bed wedged between the chair and the dresser and the table made of books
and her hair floats through it holding secrets found under leaves in Hong Kong
leaves like her lips and tongue and nose and forehead and discontent with China,
and he turns each one over on the night that he returns, confirming they were there with every part he touches.
i love you baby.