Litkicks Message Board Archive

If You Were Mine

Posted to Action Poetry




If you were mine-

I would read you Pablo Neruda every night
by candlelight
until you fell asleep.

And in the morning, as I stretched
I avoid little secret jokes we
could be sharing -
as though you were mine.


I could run my fingertips
slowly down the line of your arm
and rest, for a moment, on your wrist,
with my whisper pressure begging to
explore you in the candle light
until finally it meets your
lips,
and leaning in closer,
inches and eternity from your mouth-



If you were mine-

I would leap selflessly from
the highest bridge - if
only to catch the bracelit
that slipt from your wrist,
and, sparkling afront the waiting
waves, it spun and my
last image of you was your
beauty singing in the
sunray reflected from the
tumbling bracelet - and land
with wetness
in the bookmarkt eternal
void that awaits
as I crash into the
ineffible waters
to retrieve your fallen
rarity and notice its
rare coolness and can think of
nothing but you
as I am jetisoned from consciousness.

If you were mine-

my evenings would be spent
thanking the moon for its
reflection so that
I may see you at night.
my days would be spent
in conversation with the sun
about your being our muse-
the beauty that makes light
want to illuminate and the
poet want to quit writing
for a moment in rare reverence.

If you were mine-

but alas ye never will.

The poet's duty is to see beauty and suffer in reverence.

The poet's life is never to be seen under the sheets
in rare moments of smiles, giggles and gladful tears
lest he somehow finds himself
on the side of the unworthy...
on the side that attains for a lover
such beauty as yours.