2004
Like Me
Cello deep
I feel you moan and weep
when reaching
cautiously
for me,
while I grimace
from shame
as your fingers
erase blame
from the slick healed bead
down the middle of my back…
I wondering -
if it weren’t there,
would you like me better like that…
?
Simultaneously
these terminally weak muscles
in these terminally weak
hands of mine,
stop your
roaming
hesitant
fingers
with their insistent
mindless
plans
of glorifying
the knife blade scarup my thigh.
This sightless
untouched bodywas no ones’ business at one time,
so I must stop
and ask why -does it mean so much
that you love and hold and touch
these legs
that wobble
but can’t walk?
To tease
lavish
and coax
these perpetually cool toes
and kiss this mouth
that sometimes
gives trouble
when I talk…
There is something,
you say,
about the deep color
of my virgin skin,
something about
the rise and fall of my honey-soft belly
as I begin my chant of your name,
the way my chin and lips
speak of this new found joy,
beyond my pain.
For that,
you say,
you’d love me over and over
again.
It doesn’t matter to you
that my arms
are limited
when they move
or that I need your
help to bathe or
clean or cook,
The beauty of my body,
the bravery of my soul
was what won you over with just one look…
… my easy smile
and belly laugh
was enough to blow away
the wheat from the chaff
of lovers, made
for you.…
and I am humbled by your homage
of me,
though I not be made perfectly,
I am perfect, to you.
© 2003 Sandra
