John Rhodes
Stop For Me
I love your eyes
I like to swim in their
pools,
I love your wind as simple
as a pine forest undisturbed.
I love your brainy attempts
to
understand love, especially
when you became mentally
wavering
and said to a past despair,
“I never
knew you,” your hand wrapping
a wrap
around my shoulders.
I love the way you talk
when you make a picnic out
of a simple conversation,
and make a joy out of small
knick-knacks of words
instead of having a
discussion
over champagne.
Instead I like the way
you are satisfied with the
absurd.
I like your chest and the way
your heart beats when you
realize
that you have only been given
the second best, instead of
something
heart to heart, just as how
Christ was
the substitute then, and
Christ was lodged
in your breast.
I also love the way you eat
eggs,
and have never admitted that
or stooped so low as to say,
“Our love
we have both begged,” or that
the pain
of life we did know.
Copyright (c) John Rhodes, 2008. All rights reserved.
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