Men have always said,
to me
I have a beautiful body.
As I lay angel white and full fleshed,
in their
bed.
Beds.
Compliments as vast as the ocean,
blue,
of the eyes I share with my mother
come with the tides
of our opposing youth and wisdom.
And, yet.
Beauty has failed to strike
or possess.
Or create,
acknowledgment,
in me.
Until arriving here.
Surrounded by this population,
this beautiful loving ebb of people and dichotomies.
And jewel encrusted backs of common birds
in common areas of the public.
It is hard to resist falling into,
and in love,
with this city
everyday.
I fall onto the grass, into the sun, out of the peckish nature of birds,
and into love, with you.
Halifax. —Someone who just came back
This article appears in Aug 19-25, 2010.
rawk rawk welcome
If you are half as beautiful as your poetry is pretentious you must be stunning indeed. Nice to have you back though.