Drawing Lessons
Your hand, lucid against the drench outside. The rain tumbles in marbles, crashing on the roof like falling forks and spoons. My eyes on your finger tracing a stickman on the sweaty glass. How I wish you’d use my naked back as your canvas. Write me a poem so I could guess the words. Rain, rain, rain, rain. Rinses the wounds of this old building liquid black. Glistens in the loom of the street lamps. I crawl across the rug to where you’re sitting. Your hand on my knee summons me closer until I’m in your lap. We watch the streets swell, their drains gasping for breath. Our world, dripping blind.

And now, time for something a little lighter...

Ode to Banana Cream Pie

Silk pillows of sugar

and cream on my tongue.

Your cookie crust that just

melts, melts, melts

my bad day.

Tender waves of vanilla,

smooth and supple

against my chapped lips.

I could nap in your velvety

sheets of sweetness. Dream

of many café dates together,

my taste-buds wrapped

in your innocent rapture.

Canary slices of silken

heaven, pulling the darkness

out from my insides.

Each bite? A divine

benediction.

If only life could be so gentle.