Ribbons: A Random Assortment of Poetry

Guttural Sounds

I see us and I hear us.
Aren't we precious, isn't what we do
Together great?  

We have to make up our own language sometimes
To get the point across that we are close,
We give each other suicidal butterflies
That bash their heads on the insides of our stomachs,
Those constant patters,

Those little nudges; the palms of our hands
Sliding on our bodies produce sounds
That keeping in would do more harm than good. 

Personally, when I just look at your face
I get heart bursts and fantasize. I look into
What I see is the future, and we're on top of the world,
Looking back at us now where we are, where we were,
Nothings to nobody but ourselves.

Every future I see is always positive-
You have two important things in your life,
Your middle name and me.

You have one man who loves the stuffing
Under your skin, the smell of your shirt even after
Three days of sweating, those odd little smiles
Where your teeth show after I make you laugh,
And the little snores that come out after the goodnights.  

And I have you to give me those
Ordinary things, and I giggle like a little girl
Every time I remember I do.