by Douglas Gilbert

Let me give myself soon to you, because
I am waiting too long to be in you, and
you in my eye and touching my eye drops.

I don’t know if
it could be raining.


Waiting for the table
to be turned.

Doing the practice drill:
hiding under the table.

A proposal on the table.

Maybe table it.


Waiter and waitress.

A lottery, a fortune
a twist.

Waiting for the tables to be turned.

Give me the words
of the heart song throbbing
and sobbing “we”, and

I will see our rainbow
every time you thunder,
and reign on us with blossoms.


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