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March 14, 2011


Matthew Ivan Cherry

My flattering mind tells my body
that it still is what it used to
not exactly be (idealistically)
youthful and hairless
and kickin’…
with the thin muscles of an undergrad.

It tells me that you are new territory
to conquer and explore
…while you worry about crow’s feet
and a sagging bra.
It tells me I’m falling in love with you again…
not having anticipated
your return to my fantasy.

You’re not the girl
I first slept with
the virginal bride
with the insecure reach,
the one I deflowered
with the body that resisted

It feels like I’m loving an older woman
full and beautiful
who works me into her places 
with surety and sunshine
who assures my second guesses
telling me I’m the man
the boy wanted to be…
telling me I’ve still the boy within.

What was old and smothering
is comfortably
less claustrophobic
like the closets we sought and hid
within like some paradise
we were not worthy of
wanting desperately to be found
dark closets smelling of
worn coats that never warmed and
stale Cheez Wiz and cracker wrappers
found in the pocket of a polo
just Fabreezed.

Your breath has turned sweet again
and I’ll wear it
worn and roomy
and fresh…throwing open the windows
to hear your voice sing melodies
that loft
lifting monotony
from the very roots of my deaf boredom
and burying it asunder
from whence the foul stench wafted.

The stooge in the stowed
mirror no longer
wears a mask with my complexion
…the pasty pudgy
cheeks of sullen discontent.

He’s waxed his eyebrows
and sees more because of it.
He’s pinched his cheeks
and wears a rosie anticipation.

He wears new shoes
with a familiar scent
as he heads out unclothed
in the wilderness unknown.

That burden was never yours to own.
It was mine…but I left it…
when everyone said I should carry.
And so, yes…
I am falling in love again…
with the same one again
while the world moves from one to another
…and another.
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