|Faerabella profile pix of their Facebook page|
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Faerabella - a recent piece
I'm laying here, listening
to the macrebre jazz of Faerabella
and fantasizing of you
as the last November storm raises
voices on the rain outside.
Tomorrow, I turn off this phone
and restart a new
Knowing all our delicious conversations on it
will fade into a digital either, our texts back and forth,
our intimate pictures will not even leave a footprint,
will not exist, as if they never did. There will be nothing
left except an entry in our phone lists and those poems
I was not brave enough to share.
Like warm milk in the middle of the night,
a brief warming in the belly to comfort - then metabolized - gone.
An empty container left on the bedside table in the morning.
I don’t just want to be warm milk to you
Didn’t want to be consumed and left empty.
Even now, laying frustrated, alone –
the bass riff doesn't help, leaving my skin
craving a string of kisses on it. I want
to be filled by you.
Nov 30, 2012
This was written for a November Poetry a day challenge; the prompt was warm milk. And I was listening to a CD of a local band. So naturally they worked their way into the piece ... and then into the title.