Tag Archives: I

I don’t

I don’t lack appreciation.  I don’t want you to think I’m cold to these advances.  I don’t want you to wrinkle your brow again.  I don’t want to tire you out.  I don’t want to become routine.  I don’t want you to lose your passion.  I don’t want to restrain myself.  I don’t know if I’m strong enough to pick you up.  I don’t mean not to try.  I don’t keep my phone on late at night for you.  I don’t wait for a call hoping it’s somebody else.  I don’t listen to the lyrics when you’re around.  I don’t see you doing well on your own.  I don’t want you to know I pity you.  I don’t want to panic in the light of your brilliance.  I don’t shrink from your challenges.  I don’t like the way your eyes remind me of a child.  I don’t think about you much anymore.  I don’t go a day without trying to shake off the parts of you that stick in me.  I don’t think you made an impact at all.  I don’t hear your words.  I don’t want another man to drink in your elegance.  I don’t remember you twirling your skirt while you laugh.  I don’t want you anywhere else.  I don’t like you.  I don’t need to grab your shoulders and shake you.  I don’t want to miss the curve of your hip.  I don’t throw myself at you.  I don’t see how you burn out your passion like that.  I don’t think it’s cute when you’re dumb.  I don’t wonder where you get your fix.  I don’t like your arms anywhere that isn’t pinned under mine.  I don’t think you’re always beautiful.  I don’t know if I love you.  I don’t wonder if you feel my heart crashing against my ribs when my chest is pressed against your back.  I don’t spend much time thinking how I covet you.  I don’t really think you exist.  I don’t think your family is related to you.  I don’t laugh about you all the time.  I don’t forget the hot red flush that creeps across your body.  I don’t mind cracking a smile now and then.  I don’t enjoy the way my arms and neck tense for a beat when I see an old picture.  I don’t have to guess why I kiss your knuckles when I hold your hand.  I don’t want to see you again.  I don’t know how to explain you.  I don’t want your stupid throaty sigh and narrow-eyed disapproval.  I don’t want your legs ever untangled from mine.  I don’t need the growl in my breath when you kiss my neck.  I don’t want anything else, ever.  I don’t measure the time when your hot tears burn my shoulder.  I don’t have the time for you now.  I don’t want your faces at the edges of my thoughts.  I don’t want a new tree of possibilities forcing its roots in every time I catch your eye.  I don’t like the way your product keeps my fingers from running through your hair.  I don’t share your obsessions.  I don’t miss you.  I don’t want you.  I don’t know you.  I don’t know myself without you.

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I remember

You in a white dress. Excuse my active imagination at six and twenty six but the way the pristine snow fluttered like a bad heart in a clear blue breeze made my mind choke. Nested on your scalp before the plates fused, a million spiders dropped a million silken tethers and took off some day before I saw you. I never touched your hair but it’s the softest thing I ever wondered about, and when I crossed that bridge and carried you back I knew we would fight for this side of the threshold.

You with a lion face. I ran down the ridge of your temples to catty eyes and followed smooth tearless plains to your thin, pursed lips. When I was everything I hated, you were all coiled springs and hard ash and frightening elegance for a later time. I wanted to draw you like a bow. When I was unmanned you soothed me, and I was never so grateful for a gift given coldly.

You in the secret dark and the dust. I didn’t need a light down there when your blue eyes peered in after us. We went there to escape, and nothing was ever as easy as running away into you. You are the first thing that ever taught me Want.

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Marack Friesach

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