Written @ 9:07 a.m. on 2007-08-11
Sun Tea
I have a poem!
I wrote a poem for B. last night when he was running to the gas station for junk food.
Maybe it's not a poem. It's a thought. I wrote a thought.
Sun Tea
He is
a gentle soul encased
in the gentle slope of broad shoulders,
sweet fuzz on the nape of the neck,
and the smell of sweat, cigarettes, and perfume.
I expect violence,
but his strong hands are easy,
like the soft nuzzle of a dappled fawn,
I expect criticism,
but his voice is low,
not for a skittish colt, but for me.
He is
a gentle soul surrounded
by a world of pins and needles,
stinging nettles and hot sauce.
He is
sun tea made on the back porch,
with mint.