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Mindlessness

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 mind?

Author notes

This one got critical acclaim from the class.

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Comments

  • CherryWood Violin
    December 12, 2007
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    This definitely gives more fluidity to the poem with the new organization. I still think that the line "to push you" needs to start with the "push" and the "to" as the closer of the next line, but that's just me. I think it'll add more drama to the poem, and keep the overall effect.