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donna geronimo (fancypants) wrote,
@ 2003-06-09 13:46:00
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    someday, my prince will come
    until then, we will gyrate and sweat
    and hold each other too close to move.
    i will not touch you there, or there, or there,
    and we will use different words
    for the same anatomy. then i will cook dinner,
    wondering if it is you, me, or us --
    if, in changing, we have grown so far apart
    all we can do is touch hands.

    someday, my prince will come;
    until then, we will tense and roll away,
    bodies marked off into parts: yes,
    no, ye-no, please, no. this is the language of sex
    when the body is something to reinvent: not there,
    not there,
    not there.
    i will leave later, wondering when we decided
    i walk myself home
    close my own door
    and, bed empty,
    shut my eyes.


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