Grip My Pen
for M.B.
when I, in response to her
get this feeling of not knowing
what to do with myself
unable, any longer, to do but so much
share but so much with her
now that we must be sexually apart
sexually cut off
I’d, with that anxiety, write a poem
to come to terms, come to grips
with what, with whom
I can no longer grip
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
10:04 p.m. 21.07.09
for M.B.
when I, in response to her
get this feeling of not knowing
what to do with myself
unable, any longer, to do but so much
share but so much with her
now that we must be sexually apart
sexually cut off
I’d, with that anxiety, write a poem
to come to terms, come to grips
with what, with whom
I can no longer grip
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
10:04 p.m. 21.07.09
posted by Obie Quiet at 3:45 AM
1 Comments:
sometimes sad that we cannot still grip that with which we would so gladly still into dip or for whom our feelings still drip...sad indeed
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