Wednesday, April 24, 2013

22/30 Help Me Rhonda

maybe it was an omen
a warning
letting me know from the day I was born
that I would be haunted by memories
of her
of them
the women who once cleaved to me
their truths tattooed on new skin
holding me like secrets
like time and times
like I am free to love the way I love
I don’t want to be rescued from my memories
don’t want to croon it over and over
I am sure you could have fit the bill
I love the feel the skin
could give a damn what color
they are wrapped in
I’m not afraid of losing love
I have lost it before
gender a metaphor
I have lost it by making the decision
to take love off life support
kiss it on the lips
as it goes up in flames
it haunts me like a scent
in my clothes on the wall
in my nose on my skin
in the fur of the pets that watched
gave their approval
licked my face the morning after
so I have lost nothing
and I want to keep
the memories
the feeling I've felt at and under
the hands of love in the moment
those memories
have never frightened me
I keep them
hold them promise
my fear is not that I have loved
it might be that they won’t remember
how much I loved them
so maybe in that respect you could
help me

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