Tell me why you like me.
Because I do.
Tell me. Tell me, please?
Tell me why you like me when I don’t even like myself?
Kiss my forehead, stroke my hair, tell me why you still put up with me.
Because you said you wanted that purse in beagle.
Because two years ago you sent me a picture of a little girl wearing a dog shaped purse and you said she looked so happy. And you asked me if you got that purse if you’d be happy.
I said yes.
And you said, I want it in beagle.
And the thought of you running around in your heels and flowy dresses wearing a dog purse to make you happy made me smile for days.
That’s why I like you.
Because you’re weird and you’re funny and you’re cute.
Tag: #poetry
NPM 14: Object
Your lips on my neck.
Your hand in my hair.
Tell me you love me.
Your hand moving from waist, to hips, to ass.
So close. Pull me closer.
Whispers in my ear.
A short intake of breath.
Say that you love me.
Mine, is all you growl.
Yours to possess.
I sigh.
Lips travel and so do my thoughts.
NPM 13: Neighborly Love
“Do not mistreat or oppress a foreigner, for you were foreigners in Egypt.”Exodus 22:21
“Oh, you’re one of them.”
I cringe. I wish she could feel me, hear me, cringe over the phone.
“I got a couple next door. Illegals.”
“Oh.”
“They got a daughter.”
I don’t know where this is going.
“She turned out to be a real whore.”
“Well, thank God I’m not.”
Silence.
NPM: 11 Funny
“I’m funny too.”
“No you’re not. But that’s why we work.”
I laugh and you pout. A grown man pouting. I kiss those pouting lips.
I’m just a funny girl.
Boys don’t date funny girls.
A boy told me that once.
But you’re not funny. Well, no one would pay to listen to your jokes. But you’re smart and you’re interesting and I love you.
And I’m just a funny girl and no one wants the funny girl.
NPM 10: Boxed In
We all look alike.
Right?
Isn’t that what you said?
We all just have that look.
What is my look?
Big dark eyes that betray my every emotion before I can stop them.
Olive skin that changes color in the summer sun.
Wild curly tresses, a rich chocolate brown, soft, inviting you to touch.
The high cheek bones of my indigenous ancestors.
What is my look?
The Secret Life of Pandas 