There is a hinge <br />of bone <br />where your chin joins <br />your cheek. <br />I like to stroke it <br />in the flicker <br />of a local movie; <br /> <br />I like to take <br />your laborer;s hand <br />when you are <br />cautiously- <br />(O proof of love!)- <br />driving my car. <br /> <br />You bring me gifts <br />of food; <br />I write you <br />poems of blood. <br /> <br />Your scars are vertical; <br />mine are horizontal. <br /> <br />You lost your spleen; <br />I loosed a daughter <br />on the world. <br /> <br />Your hinge of bone <br />tells jokes; <br />while mine chants <br />poems. <br /> <br />An unlikely pair, <br />though which pair <br />is ever likely? <br /> <br />When I cannot <br />look at your face, <br />I look <br />at your cock- <br />a question mark <br />asking the sky <br /> <br />how can <br />heaven <br />be fucked?<br /><br />Erica Jong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-question-mark-2/
