Saturday, March 17, 2007

NOT ART YET... VI...


ALONE AT NIGHT

Just seven days already make me weak,
These twenty-one leave me a sodden wreck:
Cut off, no word, and twenty more ahead
Till I can even dream of his return...

As lust it was so easy, but I seek
A different prize now, so I'm held in check
By silence, lying in my lonely bed:
Where's tenderness? where's love? I lie, and learn.

So who's the girl? they ask, as if Tab A, Slot B
Were all that mattered. It's here in the heart
Those roles play out: who trades commitment for
The quick release, and who yields, seeking love.

That Inner Girl's no joke now, not to me;
For all my dreams of dominance, my part
Is to have given all in hope of more:
My love and I are twain, go foot in glove.

That both of us are male is only chance:
Since men were apes, they've taught us girls this dance.
.

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