Taste

i saw you
waiting, slowing down
for me
expecting me to come
and i didn't come
because i didn't feel like it
why do you do that to me?
how sometimes i don't feel like you
sometimes i can't stand you
all of your words
like fingernails
and i'm the chalkboard
why won't you just be quiet?
how could you ever have been
pretty to me?
add that to an
oh-my-lord
i'm so tired of you
and i can't give anything to you
and when i'm through all of this
by myself i would give anything to
you
i would make room for you
and run my hands over you
there would be nothing more welcome
more welcome than silk the feel of your body
molded by my sculpting hands
wondering, in wonder and in awe
like a catholic before the virgin
all of my love burgeons sometimes
thinking of you
is this desire?
sometimes i cannot take you
and then sometimes
i just have to taste you