Baby, let me take that from you,
you look like you could use it.
Do the chattering swallows follow you home,
their voices soothing like the
syrup left over on an empty plate
on Sunday? Or do you turn within,
listening to your heart keeping time
with the radio and wondering what
musicians do when they’re not playing.
Baby, let me take that from you,
you look like so much fun to love.
Is that sparkle reflecting the city lights
or is that all you, centered and shiny,
poised like a dancer while gawky inside,
channeling the girls in ballet class all pink tights
and thighs like marionettes at the
puppet shows at school carnivals.
Baby let me take that from you,
let me touch your face, the braille
of you strapped onto fingertips
wishing to know you. Tilt your cheek
into my palm, speak in multi syllables
the words for thank you, I am the coarse hand
of the stranger you turn to.
Baby let me take that from you,
let me take your carts and burdens.
Your effervescence bubbling like
a tulip glass of champagne the color of
a run in a rose stocking, one glass
perched upon the windowsill becoming a cathedral
on blank walls you deserve it. Explosions
of the scent you exhale when kissed
roll forward on a tide of seafoam and
sin baby let me take that from you,
let me take that from you,
let me take it all from you.
Amen.
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