Monday, August 3, 2009

close your eyes & count your ribs & go to sleep

growth chart

i remember
when i first started
noticing changes.
in every single one of my senses
there was something new
fresh exciting terrifying
about him.

his voice had started to crack
and deepen, no longer
matching the smallness in his
stature, the baby shape
of his face.

he spoke and something sparked
far inside me, nothing like
i'd ever felt before.

i would stare at his hands,
just watching them grow, turning
into those of a man
and wonder how would those feel
running along my face my body?,
what would i do
if he touched me as a grown up would?,
what i would do for him to.

his lips filling out, his grin widening
but god those lips, to dream
of how it would be
when he finally grew grew grew
and knew what to do
how to be just to me.


works in progress

we grew up in a time
where there were no
statements like
i had a great night,
no innocent kisses with
your mother watching out
of the kitchen window,
the towel for drying dishes
held tight and still damp
in her hands, while the
water ran out from the faucet
and the fear of what could happen
hung heavy on her mind.

we had too much freedom
and used it to every inch
of our advantage,
coming home two days
past curfew clothes on
backwards and inside out,
numbers tracing the new found
curve of our hips
where boys had previously
etched their way
into our heart mind body.

the porch swing was never seen
unless it was used to sneak out
but the back seat was well worn in.