by Lisa Mamou

I want to slip into your pocket
Ride next to your heart and feel the rythms of your life
Comforted by the pulsing of your breath, I'll rest
Only to rise to hear you, see you expound on Baldwin - opening doors to young minds
I want you to take me from your pocket,
wipe your brow,
and place me gently back
Surrounded by your scent and warmth,
I will reach the seventh level of place -
and know its true meaning
I want to feel as you take your jacket off
Lightly touch your breast, your arm, the tips of your fingers . . .
I want to slip into your pocket

Copyright © 1998. Used by permission of author. All Rights Reserved.