I’m drawn to you
Like moths to fire
Inhaling
Ingesting
Spitting
Eventually digressing
Intrigued by bittersweet
Childhood reflecting
of being kissed under
the monkey bars during recess
Changing mental channels
being chased down
Pinned to concrete
Man-child laughter
Then screams
Places mutilated
that had remained unseen
until age 13
because she thought
he loved her
I’m drawn to your
Bantering and ramblings
Righteousness and insanity
Politicking and cries for humanity
Even the porn star egomaniacal guarantees
Of superhuman endurance and strength
Wondering if you were swallowed
into the belly of a beast
then regurgitated to breath fire
Scorching all that exist
Smoke lingering somewhere
between demanding my
undivided attention
and verbal tongue lashings
sculpting a masterpiece
of what the world sees
but doesn’t want to believe
occurs on their white-picket fenced streets
I’m drawn to these
Her-storical fantasies
Capturing me between
Real and unseen
Nonfiction and imaginary
Giving me the passport
To places that have to be
As I’ve tittered on the edge
Of what I know is reality
Mixing ciphers with lavish dreams
That although may sound imagined
Give you the best side of me
cascading down my tongue
Over my vocal cords
with the smoothness of suede
slicing your perception
with words the strength
of a machete’s blade
because without these
symbolic styling
and metaphorical
tongue twisters
life would be
void of images
void of distinction
void of pain
void of healing
no color, just plain
I’m drawn to poetry
© Erika Gresham 12/20/09
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