I'll Try it the Other Way

I have, as you have put it, been “in Brenda's pants.”
She welcomed me. That wasn't what I got from you.
The winter's snows arrived and left. The blossoms
Bloomed. The weather warmed, but you remained
So chilly as the January day we met. Museum trips,
And title fights, and endless evenings here in your
Apartment never came to much. We talked. You
Did. I reached for you, but, when I would, you'd
Twist away. “Too soon,” was what you'd always say.
But minds, which I believed had met, must ratify
Their union through the meeting of the bodies which
Contain them or they drift apart, and ours, I fear,
Now are estranged. Brenda I met body-first, behind
Her door, upon the floor, before we learned each
Other's name, but, with the summer's heat and hers,
I hold out hope our minds soon are to meet, perhaps
When I am in her pants.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 18 times
Written on 2011-05-14 at 14:56

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