Ribbon

      You are a ribbon,
   flat and two-dimensional.
Your body is lined
with uncompromising wire.
Your folds do not move
  as my supple body does.
    You are flesh and mind
  stretched taut on a stiff frame.

        Your ends are fraying.
      You send out whispy
   fiber feelers, too fragile
and hesitant to connect,
commit to taking a step.
To smoothly twirl your fabric
  to the rhythm of silk
    woven in a sinuous dance.

      Even your tears fall
        silent and salinesque
      in a straight line.
   Your gaze is direct.
And I bend once more
to deliver an embrace,
tuck you into my curve;
  but you will not give.

    I want to shear a diagonal
      across your head and feet.
         Give you a solid end
       and proud beginning.
    Gently, slowly pull out
  your wires, help you
collapse into a soft spiral,
flow into a shifting curl.

But I know you will
 not survive the dance
      without your beloved
  ribbon architecture.
The tense lines of your
rigid back warn me
 you will never let me
    plait your body with mine.

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~

Prose is, like, SO over. Poetry is hot! <-- More Poems