A Poem For Robert Alexander (I)
You come in through the blue hacienda-like doors
You take off your boots
smell like junipers and damp soil
An arrival with spring in your hands and a sunshine smile
I must look like a Saturday morning
Those smudged eyes and that red bra hinted
Beneath
my crinkled white shirt
They say they'd never put us together
Yet there it is
a scent on my pillows when I wake up
my arms around your neck and tickled pink by the dramatics of you
painstakingly crawling to get out of your clothes
sensation of imagination
yes maybe one day,
Its up to you,
Since now
I forfeit all my walls
all my paddings and rescue plans
It is up to the stars in your eyes and the taste of your kisses
Did you know that
your smile in the morning is what makes me beautiful?
Dearest,
Come in from the cold, yes, come in from the cold
Poetry by CC
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Written on 2009-01-22 at 11:05
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