Post Published: June 27, 2020  

In Your Native Language

It feels like rain and I wonder

who’ll be laying in your arms tonight

making a love sandwich pressed

against your chest as you fall asleep,

grumbling phrases

in your native language

But I really can’t do this to myself

it’s probably best that I don’t imagine

these feelings misleading me along

some wrong pathway toward

your encrypted heart

I’d better not start feeding myself

some forlorn torture in needing

to kiss your lips, or stroke your hips

or float below you, poised and posed

to show you exactly just how I love

it when you thrust forward to my touch

This is nearly all too much of a very

cold take

that, for such a very smart man

you can’t seem to understand

You’ve made a big mistake.

I’ll stay in tonight, remain steadfast,

smug and righteous as I chain smoke

alone and wait

on the four or more

hours delayed rain that I know

is coming tonight

 


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