POEM: “With Heat” — And intense moments / Of walking / Bloomsbury with him; / Electric.

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With Heat.

And if I’m single
It’s because I’ve known
Men of love
And men of war
And men who have
Never met a lover like me
Before.

And don’t call me egotistical.
And don’t say “full of it”
I go to bed alone
At night with an
Old nightgown
No make up
And single.

And if I’m not hitched
It’s because I’ve lived
The pitch
And intense moments
Of walking
Bloomsbury with him;
Electric.

Your men
Will never come close.
Your men
Will never stink of poison.
Your men
Will never be the wild
Sonovabitch
Fucked up
Like he was…

Showing tenderness
In cruelty
And a personality that only
Some of us
Would get
If approached with caution.
And intensity.

And curiosity
That will kill
Your catatonic state
In a flash of
Heat
On a couch in a morning
With no rules
But bodies banging
with heat
and a memory
of it
that lasts a bloody
century.

Sylvie Hill, Montreal, April 2019