Our claim

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Come for me

when the lawn mower is still and cold

resting in its shed as cats prowl with mocking yawl

a world colored black and white by moon shows nothing

of her earthly devour

when heady in day she is every which way a gala of color

scolding you for your down turned mouth

though it would look beautiful in a painting vast in yellow

I would place you next to a vase

and grow wings on your scars

come for me

when leaning out the window I call your name

from one continent to the other can you hear me?

I feel somehow the tremble on this light thimble of pain

connecting us as if we were both sharing

the same space

and though we are not if I call loud enough

you may hear my migrating entreaty

come for me

as once you did and everything hurtful momentarily stopped

like a razor losing its sharp

like a hand paused before slap

I ran fast from my callous

and found you hanging upside down by your knees

eating late damsons

careless of boxes meant for our capture

you said

take a page out of my book

I never ironed myself straight

I kept my curls hidden just in case

one day they should stop needing shoes

and we can return

two by two

set over the ocean

arcing in gain

I will find you

I will sight the land

glistening in

our claim

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37 thoughts on “Our claim

    1. Oh dear Dave I can be very sentimental and maudlin! but I am glad you caught me on a day I was not guilty of either! (phew!) I do dig deep this is true! that’s why I suck at small talk! thank you so much for reading and your support and encouragement xo

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You don’t do kitsch, to my knowledge, and I’ve read lots of your poems. Most sentiment seems to come from psychopaths or their victims these days. Did I just say that out loud? I also fail the small talk test, by the way …

        Liked by 1 person

  1. I love this, especially these sections:

    “I would place you next to a vase
    and grow wings on your scars”

    “I ran fast from my callous
    and found you hanging upside down by your knees
    eating late damsons”

    “I never ironed myself straight
    I kept my curls hidden just in case”

    Also, I saw a post about how you don’t get as many comments on your poems about lesbian love. I just want you to know that I devour those as well; I just don’t always comment on everything. I’ve never read a poem of yours that I wasn’t completely captivated by.

    Liked by 1 person

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