This is for you Melbourne…

This is for you Melbourne and all your men
so sexy and so

I’d like to kiss your
for long discovering minutes and lean
heavy against you and feel
you getting

In my dream we had fences
to cross, dry country wires
and your sisters wanted to carry you
but I made you struggle, wouldn’t
help you, you, caught in the wires
wearing too many clothes,
and I laughed so

But that was a dream. Awake, I’d like to just take
my wet-tongue tip and my scratchy
calloused guitar-fretting fingertips and my smooth
writing right hand
so cool and

and lick every inch of your sensitive
skin so

where there are hairs, scars, pierces, tattoos
and where you’re unbroken like a
sweet fresh newflesh

swirl little echoes all over you, make of you
a monumental abstract painting, one tiny
piece at a time, make of you
a multifaceted craftswoman’s poem,
edit each silent-ache painword away
dissolve your thoughts into pages
of rhythmic

But I’m going back to my man and my home
so preserve your

Ask instead that a lover finds you soon,
maybe a woman who’s not a poet, a wordless,
earthly woman who grows lush herbs
in a suburban

a woman with a kingsize bed in a warm room
in a house where you can have some

a woman who knows how to love
and desire one man,
one place

a woman who will not carry you but knows
how to hold you

A woman who will love your historic face
and its sad-angry

What do you think?

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