The Men In My Poems Poem by Perdita Young (Hanna Wang)

I write poems and awkward feel
When friends hint or ask about
The men I drew in spite of flout,
About how much I from them conceal.

Well I confess at times I steal —
My heart thus reaching far and out,
And like a cup, a pan, or a sprout,
For hearts on wings and full of zeal...

Between my lines they stay alive,
Visible, talkable, more than real.
They're mine, each with a small seal,
Upon my breath they smile and thrive.

Ah lovers! You MAY use the word,
Though in my life they're seldom seen;
A painting may the Time out win,
And exists after the figure is blurred.

Jan.9th,2012.