woman

Wanting Words That Touch

/ Tony French / Leave a comment

Wanting words that touch
That sound hollow when knocked
With your eyes on the page

Wanting to hear emptiness
Like the rush of spider’s web on the face
Crave the internal space

Open up like underwater
Knowing you are there on the mountain
Can’t see, can’t feel, can’t almost breathe

Wanting the heat to pass through
The pain believed relieved aglow
Incandescent even the sunset hue

No you, no me, laugh life let go
No words just touch
But open space an aftershock

A sky below above but touch
Wanting the unmistakeable truth
Arrived like insects homed after dark

Surrendered like light like a symphony played
Discovered like a cat asleep in the shade
But yes, not that, not anything made

23 Vows

/ Tony French / Leave a comment

To feed the little mouths,
To sexually arouse,
To be a good man around the house,
To keep my fury doused,
To stay with you til home come the cows.

To heal the bitter rows,
To fill the day with wows,
To keep wearing the trous’,
To convince you of my powers,
To be with you to wile away the hours.

To appreciate your vows,
To work on being good pals,
To be tidy as a mouse,
To forego the mood that sours,
To praise what’s inside your blouse.

To work to have what’s ours,
To remember to give you flowers,
To in your mind take a browse,
To make sure old skin sloughs,
To heal you of your ow!s

To in love-making nip your brows,
To show you now the hour is
To remake our mutual vows.

1999.