he – {poem.1}

 

erasure poem

erasure poem

clean
woman

trying to teach                                                a simple

concept

tattered old
sigh
“Why is

clean                                                               unhealthy?

tightened

fussy
attention
muckle warm
dirty

how dirty                                            men
make ‘em

April 2014 ©M.C. Emery

poem 8

goodnight moon

Age is a number
like years which escape us—
Erase us—
Shape us—

Time removes us
as we were
little by little
Reforming + molding usInto foreign objects

But we are not erased
By time’s illusion—
We resist shape: our identities fluid

+ unlabeled
we are still children—
who ache + love + want to be loved
maybe we laugh a little less,
tinted a bit by the muted gray of exposure
to time’s influence

but we still bawl like babies
and kiss on the lips—
+ when we lie naked to sleep

we say goodnight to the moon
in the depthless night sky—
protecting us like a blanket.

 4.8.13 ©M.C. Emery

poem 7

those early creases twist your face

exploding with your smile

lighting you up like

sparklers uncontained—

that reach tired blue eyes

weathered by lack of sleep

you are so loved—

even if crows feet reveal the truth

of loss and sorrow

 

so loved

you unconsciously spread

wide warmth of blue veined arms

pumping and bloated

from too much heart strain

after years of abuse—

forcing blood surge

into endless rapid fire

without days of reprieve

and endless sleepless nights

 

sculpted arms and core that tighten

your secure embrace

and sensitive lips that curl and twist

empathy

 

soft and full

blanket of scruff

I smell and grasp

in handfuls—

like a sea of wheat

blowing rhythmically

by wind’s enchantment

 

I feel your hair

melt me like brown sugar—

and as I hold you in my lap,

hear you murmur—

I know this is love

 

 

 

 

 

©M.C. Emery 4.8.13