Verse Jockey
for T.L.C.

in between the pages
she and I turn

eyes turn
in response to bareness
to beauty

in private
we share what falls from us

her breasts from her bra
a jockey off his horse

we keep our secrets
hide others in verse
in poems, in songs

long I’d not rhymed with her
or for her

what rises like steam
when a kettle sings
when it’s time for coco

is the sweet milk running still

want to fill her with it
want her to keep it warm

want it to be running
when I need it
instead of as slow
as molasses in winter
in Canada

my Tropical love
to keep me happy
to keep me warm


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
6:23 p.m. 20.02.08