Andrew Stimatze

(October 6th,1957 / Kansas)

Think of Me


Think of me when darkness nears with tingling fingertips.
Remember my hand, gloved and smooth, upon your crimson lips.
Don’t forget the time we had, it wasn’t all for naught.
The best week of my life it was, a sauna moist and hot.

I didn’t start to gain that end, I’d planned another way
Seeing you asleep and calm, my will just melts away.
I watch you careful not to move a curl upon your head.
At first I turn to leave, and then I close the blinds instead.

Glance around before you leave the safety of your car
Could another strong and sure be watching from afar?
Listen closely as you slide the key into the lock
Ponder dark and shadowed car driving up the block.

Behind each tree a figure lurks, a searching, desperate soul
With groping hands, a bearded face, a dagger, hard and cold
Duck inside to close the door and slide the bolt in place
Check the corners of the room with fear upon your face.

You haven’t moved, I see. Not yet. So close to memories there.
The bed, the rug, your lacy shirts, your silky underwear.
You kept the blindfold on your eyes so that you wouldn’t know
Who it was that filled the streams you thought were dried below.

As I turned to leave that night, you reached for me and sighed
And told me that you’d never let another man inside
Asking, pleading for my name, I will come back when?
As I watch you sleeping, I’m thinking back to then.

Submitted: Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, August 21, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

A dark piece from imagined scenes, I wrote this for my muse.

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