These Ribbons I Tie As You Leave

Blue – for your arm wrapped around my clavicle. I thought I would loose my breath. Red – for the cusp of our hip bones struggling to pull the drunken color from our orange cheeks. and our sweat, our sweat, our sweat evaporating in the drenched summer air. Our pants futile afterthoughts Left crumpled on the floor It is here I asked for your respect And you filled me with it. Orange – for the musk smell of our blanket den. I would watch the way dawn light speckled your shoulders, pale, white-blue Iridium. I would trace the ink of your skin, fingertip hovering a half inch from your bone. Green – for how my name would hesitate on your breath in brief puffs like dandelion seeds blown from My wistful lips when I was eleven waiting for them to bring back my wish. Black – for my sleeveless dress, as we strolled from your father’s funeral. It was the only time I watched you cry. There were little holes in the cement sidewalk. They filled with rain, oil And your tears. I watched your face change through their watery colored reflections. Pink – for the way your skin repels from my Touch, quivers as though my finger- print were a red hot poker. You haven’t allowed me to touch you In a year. Purple – for the color of her font, as she responds to you. It is an eager Color. She responds with all the passion of an Eskimo kiss. You left her waitng..always. I have been special to you, she replies to your overtures. Her letters Who blush like a maid Who’s felt the hot moist whisper of something naughty tickle against her ear lobe. White – for the way your eyes punch accusations sharper then your razor tongue. They spit blue crackled lightening, like an angry alley cat. My words cannot reach you here. You will leave. We will divide our booty Words that once held my name like a piece Of carefully folded origami now hiss cold devoid like the plaster of our empty room. Grey- for the morning now knocking on my window. I am livid in my withdrawal, tossing and turning I can find no comfort in the tangle of these vacant sheets.