Tuesday, July 12, 2011

marriage poem #3

Sometimes there's not enough time
to talk about the things I want to talk

to you about. Sometimes the time fills up
like a bowl of green curry with jasmine rice,

basil leaves and sliced chicken.
The time with you gets spicy and I forget

to talk about the things I want to talk
to you about. Spices fill up my bowl

anyway, time doesn't. Time with you really
can't be bowled, drawn, quartered

or pressed with garlic paste, distilled
in candy sticks, and I forget to think

what it was to talk with you.

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