Musings by The Poet Loriet
Silver and Gold
I want you back,
the you that I know
every inch of, the one
that whispers tender words
into my ears as we lie
tangled in each other.
I don't want this cold you
that leaves me shivering
in ninety degree heat with
words that have lost feeling,
harsh and searching to find
the way to let me down gently.
I want your gold, my silver,
your chunky man's watch
and diamond-glittery gold
bracelet from your golf
club banquet...on my headboard
entwined with my silver Indian
earrings and sky-blue beads,
chunky turqoise pendants
braided together with
a pile of toe rings.
And us...
you wiggling snakelike
into my dark moist caverns,
shattering my ice-silver silence
with your golden song.
Sing to me again.
Please.
I miss the sound
of you loving me.
Lori Beal
the you that I know
every inch of, the one
that whispers tender words
into my ears as we lie
tangled in each other.
I don't want this cold you
that leaves me shivering
in ninety degree heat with
words that have lost feeling,
harsh and searching to find
the way to let me down gently.
I want your gold, my silver,
your chunky man's watch
and diamond-glittery gold
bracelet from your golf
club banquet...on my headboard
entwined with my silver Indian
earrings and sky-blue beads,
chunky turqoise pendants
braided together with
a pile of toe rings.
And us...
you wiggling snakelike
into my dark moist caverns,
shattering my ice-silver silence
with your golden song.
Sing to me again.
Please.
I miss the sound
of you loving me.
Lori Beal
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Silver and Gold
Silver and Gold