Sunday, March 06, 2011

A Heart-in-the-bag
for D.B.A.

let the miracle be love actually
where these differences are
where these conflicts occur

so if I am not loved in return
or not loved as I'd have wished I was
am I to cut off, am I to cease loving
or am I instead to weep
through heartache, through heartbreak

is being in love about its being reinforced
responded to positively
or being or what is true being
in spite of whether it is encouraged
or not encouraged, celebrated
or not celebrated

do you think of what I want
of what would make me happy
of what I need to be happy

the points we come to-
the edges we've been on or out on
the things we've been through
the pains and times of laughing out loud

I am sure that time and time again
with words, I've made her pussy wet
made her cunny hole leak molasses

she refuses to tell me when she has
or when she is having her period
she just shuts off, cuts off, shuts up
if I ask- whenever I ask

I must abide what I must abide
put up with what I must put up

tossed is what I am, by her, by love
I must let it, let them toss away

how far will it or will she fling me I know not
I want to trust love and her, want to trust
loving her


will I be stepped on or walked on
might she wipe her feet off on me
should I mind- should it matter

the glass that my heart is or that it's in
can break again, can shatter

I shudder at the thought
like I would or do in cold weather

is she concerned that I am well
that I am warm
or if I'm well and warm or not


contact between us, fortunately,
since we met, has gone- goes on
with gaps but without being interrupted

like life line or fishing line
but who is fishing and who is caught

how the fish dances out in the ocean
at the end of the line, unable to free itself

rises, falls back, splash - splash after splash

similarly, we are at two ends of a poem
of poetry, hers and mine

she said she has done nothing
to cause me to love her as I do
she didn't have to

it was, in heaven, already done
where things are perfectly done

all she did was to walk into the room
when she walked out, my heart,
with her books, was in the bag

across her arm


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
2:53 p.m. 06.03.11

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