Your hand
trails cold down my
chest; A call to mate made
with such mindless audacity;
it makes me want to hate
You,
to push
You
away from me.
When all that is borne
by our lovemaking is boredom, how, then
do we love as surely
as rabbits burrow?
Are we like the rabbits, then?
All motion, no heart?
Author notes
The assignment was to take one of a selection of poems and study the way it uses line breaks and apply it to a poem of our own. I used Anne Sexton's "Starry Night" and this is the result
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