T for Tom


Posted in poem by johnsontoms on August 5, 2011

I see faces and hear voices

Elizabeth walking in front but turning her head back to smile over her shoulder and through that blonde, blonde sun-dipped hair

or Heather vacuuming the apartment in nothing but her yoga sculpted body and honey-brown skin,

And sometimes I wish God had made memories more literal and with actual to-the-touch feeling.


It’s probably better he didn’t

Most men would save all their thoughts for the touch of a wet cunt or a sloppy kiss from some whore they can’t get back.

Not me.

I always enjoyed holding their hands while shuffling our feet

Sometimes in rhythm but always in style.

Anyone can fuck but not everyone can dance.


Usually if the mood was low, the blues lower,

The smoke would fill the room and all it would take is “Mind a spin?” to get you in.

Moving together was the best way to know someone,

Dancing perhaps the best way to remember.


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