GIVE ME:

GIVE ME:


Lots of space;
Air;
Four walls set majestically apart;
A ceiling so high I forget it's there.

AND THE LADY WILL HAVE:
A glass of wine,
with butterflies floating out of it
and a canvas, earth-colored
and huge as the side of a building.
It must flap a bit, from the breeze,
like a fettered bird of prey,
as if it carries a life of its own

And that's all. Maybe one piece of charcoal,
something to etch my life with.
And of course, me.
Maybe I can just roll myself into the canvas
leave pretty little imprints of pink and skin
just rub a bit of me onto it, like dust from a butterfly's wing
then go drink my wine,
and dance with the butterflies,

scruff up my hair a little wild,
be naked, safe, outstretch my arms
and jump and skip in circles,
maybe even close my eyes.
I could smile about this,
I could do it, I could:
I could fill that room with love.

and then I would take the canvas down,
wrap myself inside it like it's a big bear blanket
Lie down on the bare floor,
and sleep blissful dreams of beauty.


7/1/02