Two poems

1

i bike up the hill in the cool of the morning

thinking today will turn into a scorcher.

it’s the autumn equinox and

my soul still screams summer, probably because

i’m wearing shorts and sweating.

i look for coziness in a warming world where

we have no need for quilts.

i look for reasons to drink hot cider

from a mug

but find myself choosing a chilled froth instead.

i wonder if i will be different this winter

if my days will slow down and i’ll listen more deeply to the

beating of my lover’s heart

or will i only grow busier, afraid to slow down,

afraid to miss some tantalizing material drug that keeps me sedated

from the realities of life?

i want to listen more deeply to the beating

of my lover’s drum

because the scent of his skin is always sweeter

after he’s  been in the sun

it gets me drunker than rum.

2

it is Wednesday night at the movies.

we sit in the parking lot outside K-mart

and i haven’t truly looked at your face in a week.

i’ve been immersed in my books and screens

in the depths of sleep while you

play your marimba.

i burst out, “do you still love me?”

with no precedent, and you hold me for a moment,

and you whisper, “yes, of course.”

and yet i still don’t see how i could possibly be lovable.

how anyone could love me.

perhaps that is the mark of humility,

but more likely it is a mark of shame.

i oscillate like a fan between self-love and self-hate

on a circadian timescale

every twelve hours, i activate genes of loathing.

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