Candace Walsh

valentino valentine
I'd feel like I was fucking elvis
and a vampiress
and I would never
get dressed.
but it's too late.
I don't want to anymore.
Like a jam gone bad.
cream of chicken soup.
little lost lamb.
you would cheat on me
I would have to be frigid
so you could be
man in a bar no sex getting legitimately
justify swiping at her suggestively
en route to the urinal
pitcher drinking girl seducing
kissingkissing on the corner man
m a n
eyes. owishuponastar
you exist to be sacrifice to
(but I have sacrificed you)
but now I pause.
do you make a mess when you eat?
can you free the carrier pidgeon flock
and trust them to come back
to you?
I do.
I do.
I'd be adrift.
I'd be a mitten
and a muff
I'd be on your shit.
I'd be a girl, such a girl
in red and redolent, reverant.
A bit muffed.
A bit manacled.
A bit press my buttons
to make me membraneous
while brainy.
do you like them in spectacles
to map the freckles, splayed &
trickling like a little brook
on the range?
I've seen the kangaroo footage.
But let's forget it
the key word being if that little whistle
at a skirt
of a word.
You can smell
my filly wish
of a need.
It is so nice to sit and wait.
I can trust my senses.
They say sit and wait.
I have an appointment.
You missed me in my skirt
and masochist heels.
I would bask
in the sun
of your strength
you would sleep
in the small
of my back
I would be a picture window
and a swallow
and a pillow.
I would molt and glimmer,
iridescing your familiar.
I would make you dinner
I would want
to be kept
on my toes.
but not in a haze.
I would make sure that you stayed
and stayed