Snooze
I wish you were an adolescent,
In need of adulation and feelings
Of whatever morsels that of you I could get-
I would then be your sugar, lover and bread, even board…
If you perchance called me to be more,
I would have vaguely made an effort, to find wings of wax,
Touched your red, kissable lips, freckled breasts
Like rye, simply illicit alcohol!
But you chose to be complete by yourself,
A woman hidden behind the thatch door,
Waiting to settle something-
Waiting for what?
It was just a thought that I knew,
Tying up the irritant-
The frayed laces on my shoe,
Hoping those were the strands that tied cups…
That made you look adult, grown…
Would you believe all this-
I made up while on snooze,
Waiting forty-six years,
And never awakened enough,
To say I loved that adolescent I found in you?
I know the scars on your breasts,
The stripes- veins, turning blue!
