after 3 hours
Posted to Poetry
by bonepalaceballet on 2003-08-18 12:54:00
you think it would fade
dissipate
like grey smoke rings puffed
but there I am
with the warmth of your lips still
pressing against skin, against mind
against the thoughts of intimacy
and I'm left with the completeness of a stale mated chess match
technically finished, yes
done, whole, in definition true
but in a lesser sense of a circle
if only you had mated me
stacked the slain in a small pile
broken, bloodied, smelling of napalm in winter
or not moved a single piece
leaving it untouched, unaltered
a layer of dust to show lack of use
