Treasure, Gone, Pain

I treasure it all, too much, perhaps

the letters from the past

the artwork, the journals, old clothes. 

Gone. She has lost it all. 

I remember 

that little red teapot I had given her.  

I saw it on the stove

next to red pot holders, pans 

and coasters she made.

I saw it

the day her kitchen was adorable and clean

before it was taken over. 

The pain.

That’s how it happens, gone

one’s life is taken over by a small offering

here, this will help the night away

the energy to reappear.

just this once.

and there will be no critters, no creatures,

nothing slimy or slippery to

crawl inside your brain 

attach itself, demanding more,

or else, or else 

it will let lo0se it’s prickly tentacles

pierce crevices in your body

penetrate every painting in your brain 

until you scream 

until you scream 

release 

and give it 

the just once, one more time

like 

one more kiss, one more touch, 

one more orgasm in the nakedness

of a hidden bedroom

one more glass of wine, shot of bourbon 

not to mention chocolate 

driving across town 

for Black & Green’s organic, 72% 

Hershey’s simply would not do. 

I too truly treasure what I need 

and want what I want

supper at six and

to crawl in bed next to naked

I want what I want when I want it.