a response to my love- stevie smith

A child of words
spitting on flowers,

God, that haven
I longed for
peculiar belief
and absolution


God, that never came
to me in wake-dreams.

So I wouldnt meet
in apology
or redemption

with knife
neatly gripped
to the wash
of any throat
to my reflection.

I would
vanish.

safest
with my head
against your chest
my fingers firmly wrapped
to any curve
i could squeeze
if only i wouldn't run
if only i wouldn't

and i couldn't think of anything, not one thing i would change about him.

and i could picture his list about me. i can see it now rolling out his front door down the street reaching nearly my house (in brisbane haha) only then his pen runs out ink and he cant finish it.

or even one thing. one little tweak to a person is too much.

maybe i will become a better person-or maybe i don't need to be.

i can't love myself properly if people keep wanting this 'me' to be someone else.

and i couldn't and can't think of one fucking thing i would change about him.
----------