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Tuesday, June 26, 2012

You Take My Hand by Margaret Atwood

You take my hand and
I'm suddenly in a bad movie,
it goes on and on and 
why am I fascinated

We waltz in slow motion
through an air stale with aphrodisms
we meet behind the endless ptted palms
you climb through the wrong windows

Other people are leaving
but I always stay till the end
I paid my money, I
want to see what happens.

In chance bathtubs I have to 
peel you off me
in the form of smoke and melted
Have to face it I'm
finally an addict,
the smell of popcorn and worn plush
lingers for weeks

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