Crazy
He wants me to draw,
He thinks my creativity can be summoned.
He should know better.
Might even say…
He should know best.
I am here,
Contending with thoughts…
To touch,
…kiss,
…maybe I better not say.
I am fighting fantasies,
About counters,
…couches,
…walls.
I.
Really.
Should.
Not.
Say.
I am breathing.
Exhaling.
Marinating butterflies,
In the love pit of my tummy…
Toward my golden gates…
And he’s there trying to summon my creativity.
Crazy.
Copyright 2014
Poetry by Jeannie Shaw