Imagine being his wife —
with that voice
singing for you, singing for the world,
with that passion, breaking
like desperate surf over the worn airwaves,
singing about old lovers in candid metaphor.
Imagine being his
satellite of love
with that black hair
flying, those leatherclad thighs
dancing onscreen. Imagine
knowing all his weak places, his many
fears, his shrieking poet’s nightmares,
his illnesses, his madnesses, his love.
Imagine the power of that love.
But would you want it?
(First published in Pixel Papers)