The long season

That was the fall I wore
my heart of gold and glass
around my throat so you could
see how it was hard,

how it could shine. Will that
fall never end? A rabbit hole
of a season, I’m living there
still. A foot of snow, and

nothing to show for it
but numbness and sting,
see the sun on the surface

how it is hard, how it can shine
just like I do. I sat at the other
end of the couch and read
poetry to you in a voice too

slow, lines about maggots

and oranges, about cleansing
and lust. These words have
seduced men before, but to you
they are too many, too much

space. Instead, only skin
against skin will do, but the snow
still shines, is hard
like my heart of gold and glass.


Filed under lust and love, Musings, poetry

2 responses to “The long season

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