Movie

You’re like
a little fruit
you’re like
a moon I want
to hold
I said lemon slope
about your
hip
because it’s one
of my words
about you
I whispered
in bed
this smoothing
the fruit &
then alone
with my book
but writing
in it the pages
wagging
against my knuckles
in the
light like a
sail.

Eileen Myles, “Movie” from Sorry, Tree. Copyright © 2007 by Eileen Myles. Reprinted by permission of Wave Books.
Source: Sorry Tree (Wave Books, 2007)
More Poems by Eileen Myles