Us, Like a Bad Mix Tape

Us, like a bad mix tape without
slow songs. You like to hum
Desperado & tell people I look
sexy in the slip you gave me, even
when we're not banging anymore
nor fighting, when we both know
screams count as cuts and must
be covered by each other's hands.

At one time, we were our answers.
I like to hum More Than Words when
I'm snowed in and hungry, when
your apparition stirs from my couch,
undresses, steps in the shower, where
you're the goldfish & and I'm the castle.

Copyright © 2004 Jillian Weise All rights reserved
from Chelsea
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission