I wish that I could see these hands soft with hope
I wish
that I swam in this music
with lust that could be realized
without shame or repetition
I wish
that a clock I charmed
could turn back time
and make this dream
become necessary
without qualification.
I grow odd
I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers....
NO
when did my fantasy
decide it needed to reside
within these pages
remembered but no longer
realized?
The need
still breathes
though I age
relentlessly.
NO
You say
the diaphanous fever
is the same in you
but I can't find the shelf
you've put it on.
I would grasp it
needfully, holding it to
my mind and body's heat
but you've hidden it
so very well.
I wish
that I could release
what once
was so simply given
as part of me
to you
but I must find a shelf
much like yours
for this doll to collect dust