Poetry

Catman Cohen


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22 november 2013

Give me Back my Shirt

You stole my shirt again
The one with stains
Beneath my armpits

You lied and said
The shirt somehow fell
Into your suitcase

A dark black shadow
That hurled itself off a cliff
And landed inside your
Sad blonde soul

And when you sleep alone at night
In the naked stretch of your wine-soaked skin

Do you smell my harsh manly aroma
In the pillow of your theft?

Do you wet yourself in the taste of
The baby felons we might make?

Do you imagine yourself wearing
My body
Upon the sharp thrusts of my
Contempt
And
Love?

For a liar, a thief, a fetishist for
Fabric
That revives memories
Of lust long faded

You stole my shirt again
The one that has faint traces
Of your drool, in the way you
Drip yourself upon me
In the hot slumber of your
Babbling incoherent dreams

Give me back my shirt
It was a present from my sister
Who rarely bought me anything
Except for a blue cotton candy
Vivid blue
Like your icy sullen eyes
In the childhood
Of my lonely
Indelible
Lament






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