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a poem by Puma Perl (1 of 3)
orbit
some nights my man is a stranger.
he hides behind his big hands
and deep eyes, burns orchards
as i sleep, his thoughts drill
holes in the sheet, dreams move
like orbits along the same path;
i forget to remove my bracelets,
they turn to steel, i don't know
whether to slap him or fuck him,
it all feels the same, the bed
crashes into the wall, encounters
are never delicate, somewhere
a door slams shut, the morning
is clear, he hugs the pillow
as i leave, i crawl back
beneath the covers, and he
has returned, like a surrender.
we sleep beneath white flags,
until the invasion resumes.
he hides behind his big hands
and deep eyes, burns orchards
as i sleep, his thoughts drill
holes in the sheet, dreams move
like orbits along the same path;
i forget to remove my bracelets,
they turn to steel, i don't know
whether to slap him or fuck him,
it all feels the same, the bed
crashes into the wall, encounters
are never delicate, somewhere
a door slams shut, the morning
is clear, he hugs the pillow
as i leave, i crawl back
beneath the covers, and he
has returned, like a surrender.
we sleep beneath white flags,
until the invasion resumes.
© by Puma Perl
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #8 ~ March 2010
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