I Like A Man Poem by Emily Driscoll

I like a man
with thin socks
I like a man
that whistles when talks
I like a man
whose eyelines tell stories of
gypsy romanticism

I like a man
who bends to a certain curve
I like a man
with wit and trembling nerve
I like a man
who raises a glass to the sky
and drinks to no-one

I like a man
who keeps lost moments
in his pockets
I like a man
who watches time pass by
with one eye closed
and the other dreaming
I like a man
who cries of sorrow in his sleep
and awakes to find me risen
from his colourless vision
of reckless fantasy;
which he often keeps so will hidden

I like a man
who ensconces me within his limbs
and speaks into the night's twining
of a tired heart's longing
and love's buried whims
I like a man
who sees clearly dream from thought;

I like a man
who watches me only
for fear of losing my open palm
which he justly places in his hand
and kisses so softly come the ceaseless dawn,
who so gently steps across my skin
as if it were some sacred land

I like a man
with thin socks.