Poetry: Ghetto of a Girl
By Nic Custer Jan 2010
You've mistaken my
aimless wanderings
for planned exploration
through the avenues
of your body.
Exploration where I've carelessly
caressed the 3rd rails of your thighs,
thrown bricks through your cathedral eyes,
and flicked enough wishing whispers
into your ears to hope
you would never feel used.
But you do feel confused.
And worry has been driven
into the dead end streets
across your face.
When all I'm looking for
is a place to stub out
this smoldering fame
before my body turns to ash.
But is my flesh already cached?
Your asphalt makeup
paved over potholes and dirt
but it wasn't enough
to keep my feet
from walking to greener grass.
You may think i used you,
and turned your subdivided youth into a ghetto.
But even though my drifting
though your city scape was brief,
I've dragged my name and my dreams
through wet cement
and spent
our time together
pouring a path down your spine
connecting your heart
to mine.
(From the collection Delirium, Delirium.)
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