He knows you better
Than yourself, but plays along
For the all the favors he gets
To quell the disparity in gravity
Between your body and his. Or at least feel
Like it. He sees the perkiness of little orbs
On which dappled in the middle
Is a little dark raisin and an aureole around.
He makes incursions every time
He throws the muscle of paper
Or plastic, and all he expects from you
Is a little exceptionalism
To stroke all the keyed buttons
In all the wrong ways, at all the right times.
And still he will always be
The wisdom reflected on your eyes
The creases to your wind-ravaged body
The security to the till you call a heart
And he will sugar your ears with rings
And your fingers, with shiny facets.
And you know deep down
You’re a glorified whore
Who gets fucked in so many different ways
And yet, is tucked in for the night
By a dirty old man, who’s old enough
To be your daddy.
And still there’s something about
Deciduous autumn and flowering spring
Drifting towards the middle
Making one summer, as special as it can be
Beautifully portrayed … / ‘your wind-ravaged body’ Ha!