Tired
I’m
tired of being your kind of woman
Your
five-star all-inclusive hotel
Your
undeveloped third-world country
Your
indigenous people
Your
natural resource
Your
lemon-breasted, swivel-hipped bitch
Your
punching bag
Your
mother
Grow up,
boy
© Joanne
Osborne-Paulson
April 11, 2006
____________________________________________________
away
from
i hold
the key
you stop
me
before i
fit the lock
we say
to each other
i'm
allright
i'm
allright
in your
eyes
on my
tongue
i
recognize
the cold
stone of the words
the
pebble of dignity
the wall
we speak
we walk
toward
away
from
i hold
the key
you stop
me
before i
fit the lock
© Joanne
Osborne-Paulson
____________________________________________________
Inadvertent
Your
hand brushed against mine
you were
intent on your work
probably
didn’t notice
Until
that instant
I didn’t
know there was nothing
in the
world I desired more
than to
feel your butterfly
against
my awakening skin
© Joanne Osborne-Paulson
January 9 2005
____________________________________________________
