I Need To Learn To Love Myself The Way I Love James Spader

Facile fetishization of feathered hair,

a patrician pretty in pink physique 

transmutes to three-piece tweed suits, wizened stare 

equally as debonair, a mystique

piqued over time.  I have loved him lurking in

a high school hall.  I have loved him make a 

secretary crawl.  Loved him impotent, 

reliant on videotapes.  Loved the

extra flesh, the widened nape that frame

eyes, timbre, soul I cannot escape.  They 

are superior and somehow the same 

as when I first glimpsed him, new to fame, a 

teenage schoolgirl I learn of pain, his name.

Middle age, I moan across a desk the same.



Kristin Garth is the author of 20 books of poetry including Flutter Southern Gothic Fever Dream, Girlarium The Meadow and Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir.  She is the Dollhouse Architect of Pink Plastic House a tiny journal and has a weekly sonnet podcast called Kristin Whispers Sonnets.  Visit her site Kristingarth.com and talk to her on Twitter @lolaandjolie

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