we are ALL such people,
you and him and hapless me
utterly humanly,
we are moved to fuck our dilemmas

recklessly,
pointing fingers wildly
my moral high ground
is getting mighty shaky

and I am full of a sort of vital
uncertainty,
that joins the ache that dogs me
relentlessly

and tells me absolutely
confidently,
that I will be purring weakly
after you have been alone with me

then is shouted down by
the bastard Doubt, who is
accompanied by Reality:
when HE leaves, where will YOU be?

Watching the backs of two men
Moving easily away from me?
but that is projection begging the question
why are we here originally?

because of or in spite of
the man who can never see these words
(but what if you are the love I thought he would be?)
(and what if he is going to be what I want him to be?)

do you think, do you know, do you
really want me?
are you as brave as me?
are you afraid of me?

Sometimes I wish that I could see
Into the future so fucking much
that it practically drives me
crazy.

And I wish so fucking hard
that I could know this ache between my knees
is not just a dirty desire
for a dirty, meaningless thing

that only wants to fuck me,
fuck me, fuck me.

© Barbara Bales 2000 - 2007 all rights reserved