Stella

Stella
She sits in front of me
Queen too icy cold
I dare not touch her
I’d freeze, maybe
She’s golden, though
Sparkling
Flesh
Fresh
My mouth so dry like
My bellyaching like
I just ate forty or so chokecherries
Jeez
I need
Or maybe I just want
Just a sip of her lips
Her hopscotch hips
Just a taste
But she
She’s too perfect to ruin
With my clumsy bear paws
My stupidity
My tongue a sailor’s knot that slips and lets the damn boat drift
Away
All these things
These mistakes these sins these wrong turns and dark alleys
I can’t give to her
No
It’s not fair, ain’t right
And I got nothing to raise onto her altar
Maybe my alter
ego
Would bring flowers and oranges and gold
Perfume and oil and candles
Moonlight and music and butterflies
But who am I kidding that’s not me
Some frog into a prince in a fairytale
That was never never will be me
Sitting now in dark dank
Beatles let it be
Mother Mary
I’m so weak I’m so tired
Sands of closing time
My bleary eyes watch
My hand reach out
Wrap around her tight
Pull her to my lips
And I drink.