A Poem Of Love By Antonio Michael Silvera
I Have To Resist The Urge To Move So Fast,
Because She’s Got Horsepower
I Have To Exercise Restraint When I Throttle Her.
I Don’t Want To Arrive At My Destination So Soon.
Because When She Grabs My Wrists
She Puts Them Behind My Head,
I Have To Resist The Urge To Cuff Her,
Immediately.
Because Shes On Fire,
I Have To Stay In The Wintery Cold
So I Don’t Burn Myself, Or Incinerate Us.
Because All That You Can Do With Ashes Is Attempt
To Reassemble Them From Memory, Always In Vain.
Because She Rakes Her Nails
Across The Ridges Of My Back,
Exhuming All Of The Corpses
Of Dead Feelings Put To Rest Long Ago,
I Have To Fight The Amorous Undead
From Rising Like Zombies From Their Graves,
To Feed On The Supple Infant Of Our Newborn Love.
Because I Cant Believe
Shes Not A Shade Of A Dream,
Waking Leftovers From Last Nights
Unconscious Buffet,
A Fading Imprint Left On My Mind
From Vignettes That Always Seem So Real
As They Are Being Portrayed
In Front Of Your Closed Eyes By A Schizophrenic
Cast Of Characters, I Pinch Myself To Draw Out Reality.
I Must Believe It, Because Shes Still Here.
Because She’s A Button I Have To Be Sure
To Press Her Just The Right Way.
Not Push Her Away, Or Press To Hard For Information.
Because She's A Button,
I Have To Resist The Urge To Sow Her Up,
Before She Gets Attached To Someone Else’s Pants.
But Ill Probably End Up Doing It Anyway.
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