Other Poems by:

Stephen Williams


Help me open my awkward arms to you.
I trust no one.  Not even the secret voice.
It has taken years to get here.
Peeking out the window with the door locked.
You are free down on the street.
Talking in your parked car to an empty seat.
We were created for each other.  A few moments
making something out of nothing.


When you knocked on my door
I knew your teeth would be tiny white,
petite in your tights under your raincoat.
"You must have the wrong room," I said,
letting you in, the hallway smelling stale.
You tasted like fruit flavors.
I peed all the goodness out of me,
while you took a shower sultry in the steam.
You stayed for the weekend.  I flew
out Monday to wrestle in an Oakland riot.
You call from time to time.
My dreams still loaded
with tooth marks in the morning.


I can tell you were here last night.
The mattress is wet, sheets torn,
pillows thrown over the balcony.
The sea swept everything out and over the horizon,
even your little dress and shoes.
Always erotic explosions wherever you go...
Someday... your scars slowing you down.


Busy blood
somewhere in her backbone,
keeps her going
away from me.
Button-boots and nothing else,
she ignites their first fires...
All the young men sucking sighs
at her silhouette in the night.
Did I make her into this?
Or did she always have one eye shut?
Copywrite 2009 Stephen Williams
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