Sunday, February 16, 2014


I told him he smelled like wood-fire
and he said I smelled like regret.

Sandalwood and smoke
when I bent down and kissed his head.

Dear me, how you grow with pride
with every stroke
with every stride.

I say, darling, you're so good
too good to simply eat
and you say that's not the way you play.

So what if you close your eyes
and I tuck away my pride
and the world looks the other way

would you play with me, then?