Monday, August 13, 2007

The Song of Sam

He who was named Sam said sorry.
She looked astray, inviting naughty.
He sat down; she sat up.

"Why are you here, Sam?"

Because I knew not what to do.
So it seemed like a good idea - but
maybe not from the look of you.

Still, here I am.
With you.
Now.

Smile.
Not too much, just a smudge.
Bite your lip, but don't bleed.
Chew the tip off that straw...
just the way I like it.


Look like you want to, but look away -

let me find my way to you.
Misty, remember that song?
We heard it once, with you tapping it on my collarbone.

Corporeal dynamo.
Whiff of sweet nothing.

Dream of me, all yes but half-way closed -
eyes smell of coriander.

Shneider photographs

1 comment:

LiteraryMinded said...

Ah, what an incredible line:

Corporeal dynamo.
Whiff of sweet nothing.

Thank you.