Why do I think of you right now?
Because you are a shade of me?
Are the strange differences I see
Just hidden inner parts of me?

Should I bother you with my thoughts?
In the process, reveal my tells?
Or should I plumb my own unknowns,
And, in that way, molest myself?

If there's a side of you, you find
That's anything like me, at all,
I wonder if you'll wonder too,
Or if you'll go ahead and call?

But as for me I'm going to err
On caution's side, for so I must.
But I swear, I'll think of you,
And maybe you will think of us?

-jenn

While you orbited me 12,000 times,
And loved me north
And hated me south
And scolded me with words
That never made it through my atmosphere
And pursed your lips
And scratched your head
And busied yourself
In weightless gravity
With hopeless tasks that
The flight plan suggested,
I've been standing
Right here,
With my feet planted firmly,
While this earth turns
And flies and wobbles
And takes me
Where I long to be.

-jenn

I have perfect tits!
I have perfect tits!
Oh, have you not heard ?
Did you not know?
The true cause of breast cancer has been determined:
It's guilt and shame.
And covering the parts of us that make us goddesses!
It's being stingy with our nipples
And shy with the eggs in our beer.

The ounce of prevention is
Unhooking the clasp,
Letting them out of their stalls
Like yearlings,
And a confession of faith, everyday:
I have perfect tits!
I have perfect tits!

-jenn

It's too late.
The Pharoah's here.
The other eligible debutantes prepared,
While I stood staring out the window at the sun.
I'd heard a story about his previous wife.
How she'd been exiled because
She wouldn't get up out of bed
In media nocte
To make his drunk ass a sandwich.

And so I didn't bother to put a curl in my hair,
Or to apply the stylish mascara.
Now the assistants have come
And ushered me away from my thoughts,
Put me here at the end of the line,
Rolled their eyes at my lack of ambition,
And left me to my fate.

But here he comes,
And something about me
Has captured his heart's attention.
He takes my left hand with his right
And lifts it up,
And pulls me from the lineup.
He must have a knack for picking
Persimmons off the apple tree.

-jenn

I'm wistful for you today.
I get that way for you,
You know?
Especially when the moon is full
And lingers at my door.
But I have come to know,
I can read the signs,
The mysterious language of love
That beguiles so many
Is not an alien tongue to me,
For I am become as a man
Who sees through clothing.
Women don't normally do that, you know?
But I can read your body like Mayan hieroglyphs,
And I know all three meanings of each cartouche,
And I understand how those meanings,
Tho seemingly unrelated,
Connect together to form
An uber idea,
A good one too.
So stay with me here, giant super moon,
Until the other stars have wandered.
Hang with me here in the balance
Between night and day,
Dusk and dawn.
And when we are alone,
I will turn and show my full self to you,
And we will see what happens then.

-jenn

I don't care if someone else gets your time and money.
I don't care who the calls you take
All day on your telephone are from.
But when you close your eyes at night
And sleep and subconscious overtake you,
I want to be the one who meets you there alone.

I want to be the girl you dream about.
I want to be the one you reach for in your dreams.
I want to be the mythical piece of you that's missing.
I want to be the woman of your dreams.

In the morning when the light is magic,
And nothing is ever exactly what it seems,
While you're warm and nestled in your covers,
Close your eyes again for one more dream .

-jenn

I'm not contributing any more
To the billion dollar industries' secret lore.
Their magic words, "New and improved,"
Have proved to be untrue.

And while Ellen Degeneres promotes makeup
That won't come to rest
In lines and pronounce wrinkles,
I've seen her behind the scenes.
And so, I want to say,
"Hey Ellen, how 'bout just going
Without your makeup?"

Will no one pay you to advertise for that?

-jenn