I want to give you what you ask for. I truly do
but all my shopping bags are full. Nothing for me
to buy here. No romance, no hope, no futile essence
sold in jars. I want to write you the most beautiful
love poem ever written, but that’s already been done
Instead take my heart, I kept it wrapped up for you,
untouched, warm, full of soft beats, effects, sky dives
just for you. Yes, you wanted it and I say, take it.
I might write otherwise, but believe no poet’s words
until you kiss them off their lips. Believe nothing
until you read it in my eyes. Romance lives inside us
before the coffee, the sunrise, the putting on of the bra,
the makeup, the razor
it’s lying there
waiting for the lover’s alarm
to wake up
and pour some love
some hard sex
into its depths.
It’s so vast, you see, so structured
so enigmatically built that no one can
know the truth. I want you to love me
for all I am, but all you see is what I let you,
and all you give me are fragments.
Take it all or nothing at all. I live differently
think inside my head too much, love
without a thought, dream into a river
and float above the clouds.
This is the only way I can survive
before you wake up and tell me
how beautiful you are and special
before you pound your love at me
I am thinking that this rapture this title
of a poetry book
is just that.
Poems for hopeless fools like us.