Tonight's Poet Corner: Brewing
Brewing
by Belinda Roddie
and clean the rain from my face. Hold
me against your chest and let me breathe
in your pulse, your syllables, your poetry.
Make a dent in the stubborn steel
that wraps around my words like barbed
wire. They have imprisoned themselves
within their own paranoid barricade, and
I cannot coax them out. You stick
the needle into my tapestry and leave
threaded hearts in gold embroidery. I'm
stimulated by kisses, even when the
spoon stirs the hot soup in my cold brain.
I think the world ought to be melted
like hot cocoa into a cup, something that
we can sip on from the comforts of
our bedroom: Traveling without the fare,
or the slow flight through drunken time
zones. I think I will marry you one day,
but only when you have at least one gray
hair, to remind me that we're mortal, and
the dust collecting between our toes is
the spirits of our ancestors sleeping. Come,
wipe the storm from my brow and hand me
those wire cutters, so that I may free
the prose that's been stuck inside of me
far longer than my traumas should allow.
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