I spin faster than you.
My movements hectic to
your slow turn.
I dart while you plod, yearn
while you wait, run
while you tread the steps
of your yearly pilgrimage.
Everything plotted,
nothing to chance.
I'm with you, but
I have my own dance.
It's clockwork regular
and calm for the most part.
But monthly my belly swells,
my temper frays
and I rage
against your shores.
Your hands on mine,
gentle as I assault, revolt
against the forces that bind.
But I am yours.
I will not go.
Cannot.
Didn't you know?
Couldn't you tell
that it's always been about you?
Every turn. Every changing spell
has had to be.
You the earth.
I the moon.
And love, it holds
as gravity.
sar 2010
This is lovely, Simone. I agree about the marriage poetry thing. Andrew wrote me a 'sonnet cycle' of 14 poems when we got married and read me one every day for the week before and after we got married. Then we each wrote a poem for each other our first two anniversaries. Then I wrote him a rude limerick for his birthday. And then we gave up entirely. Imaginary love is much more conducive to poetry than the real thing!!
ReplyDeletebeautiful.
ReplyDeleteWhat Ben said.
ReplyDelete