The world is filled with cripples;
don’t be ashamed of being broken;
your shame is ours too.
Our bodies cannot touch our souls.
Why pretend?
Why be modest?
Hands are for holding, arms for embrace.
Bring your ear next to my mouth,
as if listening.
Ears are for lovers.
Listening is an excuse to feel
your lover’s breath
on your skin,
and speaking is shameless.
The stomach can be stuffed
with the world’s abundance;
but what ear can be filled
with the murmurings of love?
It is better to be poor this way.
The poor know, in the Biblical sense,
what they have not.
Don’t remain aloof;
your poverty is our joy.
We inherit the earth
piece by piece.
Don’t think to share only when you’re full.
We can’t live on pride–
that’s a poor man’s hell.
You say you’ll share
when you’re complete.
That’s offering excuses.
We’re dying alone.
Bring what you are now.
What could we do with perfection anyway?
Maybe you aren’t pretty; I don’t care.
Lend me your ears!
You say I’m not making sense.
Okay, but, I can’t kiss your mind;
this babble is only for leaning towards your shoulder–
and moving my lips.
You are right. Maybe you know better than I do.
My thoughts are hopelessly incomplete.
They keep pushing each other away.
They know they can’t fill my heart.
They clamor, crying out for you.
Say anything. Say even that
you don’t know what love is.
I will lean in closer.
Say it again.
Copyright 2007 Todd Mertz