Untitled Poem, number 3.3
By Thomas Trofimuk
I would rather have you, with your curious hands,
the curvaceous landscape of your only imagined body,
and your needy voice at 4 a.m. I would rather have you
and all your abandon, your relentless damage that
no king’s horses and no king’s men can put together again.
I would rather offer you all the gifts of pleasure I can muster,
with no ego or expectation. I would rather offer this body
to you, with no thought of recompense. I would rather
memorize your body than any poem, learn each stanza of you,
each line, each word. I would rather memorize the spaces
between your words – the music in the silence in between, the
colour or your eyes at three in the afternoon, at three in the morning,
and at three minutes after every hour. And three minutes
before every hour. Because the number three is magic. Because it’s
Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Because it’s a Prime Number. Because it’s
body, mind and spirit.
Because this morning I want to be someplace warm, sitting in a sturdy chair,
across a wooden table from you. The sun will be warm on our faces. We’ll
hear birds singing. The coffee will be strong and black. I want to have left every
ounce of desire in a room above a café. I want to have laughed, and cried and
loved with more intensity than we have known. I want to be wrecked by love,
and lust and need. Exhausted. I want to be empty of that. And after all of this,
I want to look into your eyes and see what’s left.
Thomas Trofimuk is the very talented, award-winning author of Waiting For Columbus. Discover his beautiful work and poetry, called Sorbets at
SORBETS ARE RAW, UNFINISHED SNAPSHOT POEMS, or short prose pieces, written by Thomas Trofimuk, and meant to act as a service. They arrive in over 600 e-mailboxes across the planet every Friday. They are intended as a breath of metaphor, a small poetic break, in between the work-week, and the weekend.
And they are an inspiring treat! Highly recommended.