Love Poem Number 3
Forever protesting the interference of the stars,
every night she fell to sleeping just the same.
The dream eclipses the fear of living.
I knew a man who taught himself to swallow stones.
When you are hungry, life is survival.
When you are full, life is suffering.
Guns are pleasing. The second before the final end
you are reminded what prayer is for. It is the scent
that makes death taboo. It sets in, fastens to your marrow:
When he proposes I sneeze to distract him.
Not that I couldn't love a butcher,
that it would be the death of me.
Apples and lemons and pears
for the peach.
I dream the myth of man and with it
food chains and rape. When my vagina is full
I'm suffering. When it sleeps
I'm surviving. It is another story
up the ass.
Jennifer Miller is slowly completing a B.A. in English Literature and
Women's Studies at a university in New Jersey.
These five poems are part of a series of nine "love poems" that
ideas of identity and identification through the concept of love.
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