I need to tell you that I want to live.
My head that spins like a helicopter’s flight.
The days where trees burst through my chest.
When my nights are disturbed I lose my hands.
Stroking your face I clearly breathe again.
I create a new invention to suit the desires
of the two shadows in my mind. I love:
shoes that charade a hot summer rain.
We both watch my penis in the tall mirror,
your arse twisted so the view assures your eyes.
Slowly I move to catch the glittering waters;
saturated in forest liquid I pull out of you.
Air that gives us early morning insects saying
goodbye to the world and bless this life.
From 100 Love Poems (Earl of Seacliff, 2005)
© John Pule
|
