1
Your fingers free one breast burgeoning at the nipple.
How long has it been since you offered me your apple?
On a blue day you are still a lady being blue.
No one frees your body before blown leaves lie with you.
Not even me, though if I could touch you I would love
what your men and women loved that I would never have.
There’s gas in your van, iPod in one hand, so come on
into the dark where I love to feel you and you me.
2
Before now a blue lover would cross the Sahara
going without water until he opened your well.
His cock dowsed your cunt until the flood was everywhere
filling a fertile oasis. Two bodies were all
one Maria Theresa coin could buy, then enjoy
before sands drifted under you and wind swept him clean,
when the only blue was the color of the bright sky
and your only lover had never left you alone.
3
Even fucking is still easy, getting off is hard,
and yes, succulent one, there’s never enough body
to ease the skin back into its lines of levity
before both bodies open to pour out on the land
what was never enough to grow other than children
whose issue frees you from your lover’s captivity
and that’s why you stay blue even when the sky is gray
yet no love is ever enough once the drought sets in.
Floyce Alexander
(7 October 2011)
copyright 2011 by Floyce Alexander
Goddamn, Floyce. I haven't commented here for a while because I thought I might be wearing thin for you. This fucking poem is so brutally honest and beautifully expressed. Man, you still got it.
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