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Martha Aldenbrand

This is a crazy game of tenderness, 

talk softly, rock back and forth,

laugh long and quietly, say

I am schizophrenic but

you can come in, let’s play

this quiet game, pretend

we’re squeezing grapes with our tongues

and tasting the juices dripping down.

We’re in a yellow attic,

I will show you the clothes

of the period, I have a muff.

Do you love me for that,

for showing you something

that is only us? Baby,

slip on this shaggy coat

and we’ll walk out through the rafters.