LANDLORD Poem by Tomas Lieske

Why do I find you attractive? I listen at your door.
I let your clothes run through my hands when you have left
this house again with youthful jumps. The skin
around your hips, your scent, your rolling pace.

Everything was granted you on loan. The space
your soul marked out in chalk-stripe
so your body can take shelter, which you converted
into a predator's cage; a familiar path worn into
the rug between the sink and wall.

The pipes I lay to capture your breath
and keep for years; the wires of steel
I tighten to soften your fall. The walls
I shovel out so I can see you. The bowls
I place to tempt you back into your cage.
The skirts that stand about your kindled legs.

Look, I quietly sit in front of your room; on the level
with the risk. With eyesight improved, a longer
and more sensitive pellicle;
with membranes taught and suckers
contracted; with feathered ears.