Twisted Dialogues
with you twisted sister
i indulge in twisted dialogues
reconnecting one word
of irrelevance to another
that is so insignificant from the foot
of the rainbow to the tip
of the masculine bluntness
to the center of feminine
madness
this is a rainy afternoon after all
and i am going no places
even in that sacred
hearth of the heart
even in heat
i cool myself comforting myself
with my own rubber hands
i may not have said anything at all
something that may shake your booty
or what not or what else
but i have time
so much time to spend tonight
not wanting anything because i know
myself, i found it and there is nothing in it
except perhaps
an assurance that if i wriggle my fingers
to check if my nerves are alive
then i must be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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