Friday, November 30, 2012


When I am in an idle state of mind and I think of my someday-mate, I think

I shall have a poet, one who shall whisper words into my skin


I shall have a singer, one who shall serenade the world with our love


I shall have a writer, one who will paint drafts on my skin

In slow-fading henna ink, drawn with soft calligraphy pens

But when I am in the solid world, I think

I’ll have a mathematician who will be as excited as I am by new proofs


I’ll have a marketer who will understand when I say that science needs presentation to spread


I’ll have an economics major who will discuss policy with me

Whose mind will cut through airy “should”s and show the statue in the marble

But then

I don’t think I would ever be happy with just one

I think

I shall have a mathematician who writes equations on my skin


I shall have a writer who understands the importance of presentation


I’ll have love


I shall love

No comments:

Post a Comment

© 2009-2013 Taylor Hobart