after “What Women Want” by Kim Addonizio
Grandfather, I long for rest, long
for the unceasing hurricane
spinning inside me,
blowing inside me
to dissipate out at sea,
long for the pressure, the terror,
the flying debris to settle, long
for disaster relief, long,
at least, for the eyes,
the faces that haunt me,
the painted lips, the finely accentuated
eye lashes, cocked heads innocently giggling,
half hidden peaks of bewitching breasts
dissecting me, the heart in my chest,
to cease. I long for the sing-song
voices to stop their hypnotic chorus.
Oh, how I long for rest.
To know again the simplicity
of first love, love without corruption,
without question, love assured
to last forever, to last
that long at least .