METAPHOR POEM (an exercise)

you are a 

sequined sash

hanging from

a debutante's 

throat, stifling

her breath, 

cutting

off just a hint

of air.

you are a

a bottle of

cheap perfume,

purchased at

the 5 and Dime,

scenting the flesh

of a lover whose

passion is

unrequited,

you are a 

photograph

in an ancient

album, dog-eared,

forgotten,

left to rot in

the old desk

in the attic.

you are a 

tall fir tree

in the forest,

a Nash Rambler

in the driveway,

an soiled hot dog

wrapper in the parking

lot of the empty

ball park.

you are a bolt of lightning

that strikes me

down when

I'm walking

through the

storm, my arms

raised like

condcutors

to magnetize

your heat.