Untitleds 8th Feb 2011

Untitled 1: By J. E. Zimmerman

I love him the way you love fierce things,
from behind the barriers of my own silence.

The breasts of my love aching with fullness;
would he suckle till I am empty, leaving
me dry with a satisfied exhaustion.

The nest of my love is feathered but cold--
awaiting his speciousness, as if a nest
could appropriate his animalistic ramblings.

My feathers strewn on the floor;
my heart lays naked, cold, silent
and full of yearning.


Untitled 2: By J. E. Zimmerman

On the inside looking out to you:
I'm drowning in the milk of my own optimism.

I can't get out of the glass of my own naivety,
a regular Alice, sailing on a sea of my own tears--

I've made myself small trying to fit
through the door that leads to you.

Can't stop now. The only way is up
and out, not through.

I'm gonna grow big enough to run
away from you.

Grow big enough to tear my eyes away
from the spectacle
you've made of yourself.