you weren't supposed to see this

i know all of your
words. why am i even here?
you won't take me home.

i found this line for you
but you don't read my poems anymore.
i hope i wrote the right zip code
on it. the postman is lazy
and i know he won't try twice:

i have not lain with
beauty all my life telling
over to myself

telling over to myself...
my best laid plans have been
torn up
again
and
again
by my tiny hands
not even strong enough
to hold you

i didn't mean to
falter this time. he was just
a notch. you'd be more.

if you wanted to.
i would hold you
like the teddy bear I fear
I'll never outgrow-
sleep with you on top
of my arm
and wear the pins
and needles like
your scent throughout
the day

you could be my pen
i could be your paper. we'd
trace calligraphy

on each other's skin
like a pillow book
carving our names
in each other spines
so our bodies could
follow the instructions
in our marrow.
you don't have to say
a word
and i'll try not to-
let our hips say things
we're afraid to.

you feel right right now
and right now is all i know
right now i want you.

i don't care if its cliche
a poet for a poet
Ginsberg finds his Orlovsky
Plath her Hughes
Miller his Nin
and who is June?
i am a gemini with
cancer tendencies
to build a hearth
and home
where I can
have midsummer night's
eve
parties and toast under
the mistletoe to your kiss.

i know all of your
words. i could repeat them in
sync with you. our lips

would match
tracing the air between
like a promise to
eliminate it.
you said yet.
yet is not a promise
but a hint of one, and i know
you didn't think of it
the words flowing out of your
fingers
like my ribs
could
would if you wanted them to.

if i did this right
this pantoufle de vair will
find the right person.