Robert Creeley - Something
I approach with such <br />a careful tremor, always <br />I feel the finally foolish <br /> <br />question of how it is, <br />then, supposed to be felt, <br />and by whom. I remember <br /> <br />once in a rented room on <br />27th street, the woman I loved <br />then, literally, after we <br /> <br />had made love on the large <br />bed sitting across from <br />a basin with two faucets, she <br /> <br />had to pee but was nervous, <br />embarrassed I suppose I <br />would watch her who had but <br /> <br />a moment ago been completely <br />open to me, naked, on <br />the same bed. Squatting, her <br /> <br />head reflected in the mirror, <br />the hair dark there, the <br />full of her face, the shoulders, <br /> <br />sat spread-legged, turned on <br />one faucet and shyly pissed. What <br />love might learn from such a sight.<br /><br />Robert Creeley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/something/