the poetry knook, the poetry of stephen m. james

Keep asking cause you’ve smbitten me.

If they were secure as me, they’d be free laughing hysterically underneath the foldout bed here with me,
Crazy thing, finding the perfect between extremes:
listens / disappears / won’t shut up / “Yes we know you’re here.”

How many sucker souls daily get seduced by your curiosity?
Tell me and keep asking, too, ’cause you’ve smbitten me.
Could I love this way? Is your interest real?
Yeah, but
could I get over the jealousy
of your interest–in all the other Mr. Mysterys?

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© 1993-2024 by Stephen M. James.