Two hands Tied
for Francise Joseph

half a dozen holes I'm down in
climbing from, slipping and climbing

she imagines I'm available to enter into,
go down one more, once more and live

more than Houdini was capable of
what she invites, expects; suggests she fears

only available for hugs and kisses
not sex on the rocks, not straight up

one woman frustrating me, enough to live with
more than one to sleep with, can do without

let words be enough and gifts, and agape,
hands for God to deliver gifts to whom he selects

buckets to catch rain water when it fall
in squalls from heaven


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:35 a.m. 21/07/07