Saturday, August 10, 2013

EAU SAVAGE, for FAYE (MAY, 2013)

My Eau Savage is on its way!
Today it is in Anaheim, tomorrow 
it will be on a truck, covered in wrap,
cardboard, brown tape, postage stamps
and handwriting. Beneath all of that will be
Eau Savage in a rippling bottle, lightly tinted
green. It will smell like limes! And basil and cumin 
and orris rosemary amber! Once I gave a girl named Mary

a rose, it’s true. But today I want to give a girl named Faye 
a sweeter smelling me. Eau Savage! I say. But I must wait 
for Anaheim: for its cardboard and brown tape, its postage 
stamps and handwriting, its truck driver who eats potatoes,
curses for free who will walk to my door in brown shoes and 
smells like rosemary and naturally, brown shoes. I must wait. 
I must wait for days. I waited for years to fall in love. Why do

I hate waiting for days? You understand, don’t you? Even if you 
do, if I must say, then you must listen to me wait, please do.

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