Poem #1 - Bruce from Cape Town

B.

Your toes
Pink and crooked
Brush against the heel of your other foot
And my eyes dart away because (I guess you’re right)
I’m shy, and you’ve caught me staring.

You talk to me, tickle me, joke with me
Ask me questions – like it truly matters
Sure, I can tell you all the things I’ve done and seen
Who I am
I’m a writer for now, but won’t be one forever
For (as we both agree) it’s only fun before it becomes work
Then all the love that was once there dries up

So you say you’re to be an army man
Sliding your leg over mine
Who will serve his country
Because that’s what your family has always done
But after that, you have no plans. Perhaps you’ll travel, see the world.
You don’t want to settle down like everyone else around you has done
Settle for one wife, one home

You like being alone, you tell me
As you kiss my hand then press it up against your own — [against or to?]
I agree and smile
Because we both seem so young in
Your big bed in
Your empty room
A room with white walls

The only decoration is a photograph of a dirt biker
Your passion, though not for competition
And beneath that is a
Girl in a bikini
Whose long, tan legs could extend down into the month of February
Counting down the days until you depart

You can love me for now
Kiss me, hug me then send me back to where I belong
I don’t promise I’ll keep in touch
Because for that moment it was nice to be with someone

As lost and alone as me.