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Poetry

by Cathy Linstrom

Nonpareil, Raphael

Oh, my angel,
you fly too close
to the ground
for your own good.

Don’t you love me—
I could rip your heart out.
I am not angel food.

But how could I help
but pull you down on me
from out of your pale blue sky.
To commune with an angel
is to make love with the divine.

Love me, my angel
and be mine.

Valentine’s Day (two years ago)

Give yourself to me, if only for an hour—
when hours can be found and put to such good use.
Give yourself to me and end these, my hours
of endless wanting and wondering
and turn them, then, into hours of peace and passion
found in each other’s arms.
I close my eyes and still see the freckles on your chest.
Reach out my hands and feel the skin of your back beneath them.
On my knees, I plead with you as I will plead with no other.

Leave me no longer in this supplicant’s pose—
cherish the heart in this lover’s soul. ♦