I do not know

what you truly think

of me

or of all my dead lovers.

Once they kissed my skin

wrapped me up in denim

cheap corner motels

backseat heaven

kissed them in closets

on gurnies, trust me

you would not care

how  I wore my black phase

through my blue one,

how my breasts and legs

led me through lines

free cocktails, drugs,

rides, vip sections,

limos, rock stars.

He said “you are art”

and never read my verse,

but he lived in some kind

of utopia

and locked me out.

I wandered up and down Brooklyn

Bridge, examining initials.

In and out of phone booths

with quarters in my pocket

and collect calls on my mind.

“You are my art” he explained

but I never wanted my dark hair

spread on his sofa

so he could paint me

in various naked poses,

“no,” I said,

“I like to go to art galleries

and not recognize the muse.”

He always shrugged at my nonchalant ways

and messy handwriting, aloofness,

but I never laughed at his art.

Now he changed his name

and prefers blondes

who are not poets. 


16 thoughts on “Care

  1. The emotion you create with your verse Chrissy , stops my heart until I read to the end and I can breath again …breath again out of the sheer raw beauty of your wandering up and down Brooklyn Bridge wondering of love past ….gorgeous poetess ! Love and blessings , megxxx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Don’t believe everything you read. I create art most of the time! I’m so happy you loved it and the visual…you are the best Meg, truth be told, I only went to BB once with my friends! 😘

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Damn that was good. You write with power and emotion. I saw you on the BB. Amazing. And your words are true. Fuck what he thinks of your dead lovers or your past. These things are now a part of you just like your writing. Chrissy, you write from the heart and you never disappoint.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh Andrew, you are way too kind! That picture on my blog is from BB! I love that bridge it holds a special place in my heart❤️💔❣ one day I will disappoint it’s bound to happen.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Reblogged this on Deuxiemepeau- Picturing Poetry by D. B. Donnelly and commented:
    Its Sunday Reblog again. I’ve been busy moving to Paris from Amsterdam (via London, Paris before and originally Dublin) and settling in for the past few months but now its the Christmas season and the time for giving and I wanted to share one of Christina’s poems today as she always captures me with her honesty and bare naked truth. This is a beautiful piece and I hope you enjoy it…

    Liked by 1 person

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