the dark poetic boys are writing calling me deep.

The watercolour depicts Picasso and his lover in bed. (1902).

The watercolour depicts Picasso and his lover in bed. (1902).

I’m laying in the darkness listening to the heavyset neighbor woman’s laugh through the window screen.
And all I can think of are a million different ways to say the same thing –
‘I love you’

Not her. Not the heavyset woman. A man. That man. The man.
The one person who with one thought vibrates rings true through your whole being.
I want to fuck the world and forget.
but I can’t. and I won’t.
How can one person mean so much.
And why can’t I just shut up and play dumb. Not say these things out loud.
The dark poetic boys are writing calling me deep. And they’re attractive. but I can’t.

I watch the North in the darkness.
As the heavyset neighbor woman laughs through my screen window.
My body and being vibrates
With a million and one different ways to say, ‘I love you’.
to one man.

Next time take my left arm or a $50 but not my poems. -Bukowski