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You did say, need me less and I'll want you more.I'm still shell-shocked at needing anyone, used to being used to it on my own. It won't be me out on the tiles till four-thirty, while you're in bed, willing the door open with your need. You wanted her then, more. Because you need to, I woke alone in what's not yet our room, strewn, though, with your guitar, shoes, notebook, socks, trousers enjambed with mine. Half the world was sleeping it off in every other bed under my roof. I wish I had a roof over my bed to pull down on my head when I feel damned by wanting you so much it looks like need. Marilyn Hacker - American
1 comment:
Where was this poem first published? I love her use of the word "shell-shocked" in this poem. The ending is a killer, too.
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