LOve Interest
I waited for Godot. But he never came.



what thirteen wants

Thirteen wants a whole floor to herself
          not to be avoided by skyscrapers
     (she is not simply
     a place to store cleaning products
     and a floor for extra linens.)

She is not a placeholder—
she is the place
and the held.

She is to be beheld and is beholden to nothing but beauty.

She wants the good champagne
the pop the sizzle the flurry the chuckle
the gurgle the staccato ascension of pitches in a flute being filled
with a flight of bubbles that leads
to somebody’s tongue
          not another broken promise
          nor an empty prophecy from some mortal with a god-complex

Thirteen doesn’t want her first guest to be annoying
nor her first phone call to be from a bill collector.

She wants the wettest kisses
and the most deliberate touches

There.
There-there.
Again, this time: deeper
and in circular motions.

Thirteen wants to be touched with verve.

She has given away everything and the nothing that is left will be filled with light.


Thirteen realizes that age is not a resignation
     that joy is always an option
     that a smile is just a mouth’s turn away
     that there will always be another everything
     that laughter photographs well
     that silence is the possibility of all music

perhaps Thirteen will recline for a while
swaddled in last year’s blanket
but crisp air will envigorate her
as soon as she opens the door
to check for mail
and she’ll be alive
again
~ Vince Wilson @invincewil
foto: thirteen birds by James Bo Insogna
  1. what thirteen wants

    Thirteen wants a whole floor to herself

              not to be avoided by skyscrapers

         (she is not simply

         a place to store cleaning products

         and a floor for extra linens.)

    She is not a placeholder—

    she is the place

    and the held.

    She is to be beheld and is beholden to nothing but beauty.

    She wants the good champagne

    the pop the sizzle the flurry the chuckle

    the gurgle the staccato ascension of pitches in a flute being filled

    with a flight of bubbles that leads

    to somebody’s tongue

              not another broken promise

              nor an empty prophecy from some mortal with a god-complex

    Thirteen doesn’t want her first guest to be annoying

    nor her first phone call to be from a bill collector.

    She wants the wettest kisses

    and the most deliberate touches

    There.

    There-there.

    Again, this time: deeper

    and in circular motions.

    Thirteen wants to be touched with verve.

    She has given away everything and the nothing that is left will be filled with light.

    Thirteen realizes that age is not a resignation

         that joy is always an option

         that a smile is just a mouth’s turn away

         that there will always be another everything

         that laughter photographs well

         that silence is the possibility of all music

    perhaps Thirteen will recline for a while

    swaddled in last year’s blanket

    but crisp air will envigorate her

    as soon as she opens the door

    to check for mail

    and she’ll be alive

    again

    ~ Vince Wilson @invincewil

    foto: thirteen birds by James Bo Insogna

  1. Timestamp: Wednesday 2013/01/02 18:17:13Vince WilsonpoetpoemJames Bo Insogna13photography