my botanist
he ain’t a newt man
he's a fan of women
when he's swimming in ponds
looking for lilies
he’s dreaming of only me
hopefully.
so when he finds them,
he never does,
they float right past him
for i cloud his thoughts
I’m his muddiest feet
he’s my secret friend
I am his stepping stone
I descend on him,
like the sun does the Lilly
every secret evening
I'm his Victorian garden,
the well kept guardian of desire
the secret privet hedge,
in his amazing thoughts
no, he ain’t no newt man
despite his wag tail rituals
despite his flag flail flip, wide eyed woman tricks,
he suggests bottle trapping emotion, especially for me
you worked too many pond dips sunshine!
been a long time in the pond, all wrinkly boy
i ask him to kiss my lil ol lilly lips
pink and red and purlple and blue
out of breath for you
forget all of this
pond tripping botany
love me
Rachel Bond
Mon 12th Apr 2010 23:51
this one i like for a few reasons. I have pink red purple and blue lillies tattoed on my arm.this should be a good thing but Im not sure id want to kiss a wrinkly boy from the pond. We all have murky depths...some people want to stare at the slime and algae in hope that life might come of it as if from the primieval swamp.