Little Poem For Friday

Mirabai in New York (Part Two)

I can’t think of you

as something I need to get.

Or keep.

That would ruin everything.

And I ruin everything.

Wait.

I take that back.

 

I can’t decide which is sweeter:

the name I call you,

or the one your parents do:

the one they choose has “TH” towards the end, and then a vowel.

 

Napping today, before the cat awoke,

I was pressing my tongue against my teeth

to make that sound: th-th-th-

to bring you closer

to my mouth.

 

But mostly I wanted to tell you:

 

how on the Q Train tonight going home

the lights on the Brooklyn Bridge

looked like a necklace to me,

but really there was nothing

but the bridge itself.

There was no poetry in all of Brooklyn.

 

My Master is half sand, half sea.

He is blue to the core.

 

**

Yes, I am a consulting Astrologer and Tarot Reader but in late January decided to post 30 Poems in 30 Days. Old poems from my old life. A clearing. Saturn is transiting my 3rd House 🙂

If you want to read all the poems, all you have to do is visit my blog posts since January 27th (I think). I’ve been posting a poem a day among the Astrology talk.

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