Poetry Contest Round Two

This time around we had to write about passion. Here you go.

Untitled

I don’t think this can be right
this pull, this tug
he doesn’t know me, my soul, my inner demon
i’m not so common, after all

it’s silly, so silly
sitting alone, notes in hand
prick, prick, they well up
and I think “it’s only the first time”

and then it doesn’t matter
he pulls them, tugs them,
caresses that spot that
poets extol and lovers moan yes
for

it’s silly, so silly
sitting together, wringing hands
impatient children not knowing
what to do in the new robes we wear

can he pull her heartstrings
as taught as mine
when he struts and sways
and croons to soothe the moment

it’s silly, so silly
how my eyes close without
thought and I sway gently
pushing, choking back the tears
the lump the stomach flutters

this was made for me, i know it
this line pulled from my memory
this chord the one that lulled me to sleep
this voice the one that shakes and soothes
this song
this music
this mine