Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

The Switch

When I brought you home
on a bright spring day
it was for the frolic
the grass stains on our knees
and the sweat

it was not for love

When I brought you home
I was your mistress
I held your throat
in one hand
and your stones
in the other
and I was drunk on laughter

you were my jester

When I brought you home
with your lazy eyes
and your eagerness
I knew you would
be easy
yet I had no concept
in my arrogance
that you would ease me

I thought trust an illusion

When I brought you home
I had no intention
of trading places
with you
If I had been asked
I would have said
no palm would rest
on my head

no one could bind me

When I brought you home
you trembled
in the evening light
intense as the heart of a bird
and I found myself
giving you everything

head heart and skin

(c) RCGA 2014


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