Sunday, 30 October 2016

I Don’t Want to Write a Poem About You

by Catalina Claussen


I don’t want to write a poem about you.
I don’t want you to know
You move me
Stirring
Wild spirits after the children are cozy in their beds,
A day of skiing and mountain wind caressing their cheeks.

I don’t want to write a poem about you.
Instead, I want you to know that I want it simple.
I want to walk with you in the early morning damp
To take your little one to school.
I want yogurt and granola on the patio loveseat,
While the dawn lifts the mist
A tray of sushi and a belly warmed with saké as you tell me
About volunteering at her school and drafting plans for you and me.
I want the night sky
A glass of wine
The silence of the deep
The scent of salt spray
Sun-warmed skin and fine-grain sand pressed up against it.

I don’t want to write a poem about you.
I want to read the surface of your skin, map the contours,
Understand the spirit that quickens beneath

And dive in.