Kurt Cobain

 Danielle Walczak 

 

There are two poems about this

I’ll let you read this one.

 

Our taste buds are different

but when we kiss they combine

creating flavor I didn’t expect from you.

I didn’t expect this from you, but outside is turning

bright enough for shadows

soon it will be early.

 

Sing me Icelandic and Norah Jones

I’ll keep my socks on

write you a poem

unbutton my shirt

let you touch

places I haven’t opened in a while.

 

There is fear associated with assigning

metaphor to someone new.

But you’ve always been Balsam to me

you are stronger now, under snow blankets

 

I wake to you humming in your sleep, in-tune

a song caught between double-edged dream catchers

somewhere between universes ellipse

rock walls crumble for a second, and this I’ll hold on to.

 

6:30 a.m. is no time for making me up, making you,

making me, warm, permanence, making sense of being awake,

of Kurt Cobain. Humans intoxicated

on each other, or ever getting you out of my mind.