Barefoot

-Anne Sexton

 

Loving me with my shows off

means loving my long brown legs,

sweet dears, as good as spoons;

and my feet, those two children

let out to play naked. Intricate nubs,

my toes. No longer bound.

And what's more, see toenails and

all ten stages, root by root.

All spirited and wild, this little

piggy went to market and this little piggy

stayed. Long brown legs and long brown toes.

Further up, my darling, the woman

is calling her secrets, little houses,

little tongues that tell you.

 

There is no one else but us

in this house on the land spit.

The sea wears a bell in its navel.

And I'm your barefoot wench for a

whole week. Do you care for salami?

No. You'd rather not have a scotch?

No. You don't really drink. You do

drink me. The gulls kill fish,

crying out like three-year-olds.

The surf's a narcotic, calling out,

I am, I am, I am

all night long. Barefoot,

I drum up and down your back.

In the morning I run from door to door

of the cabin playing chase me.

Now you grab me by the ankles.

Now you work your way up the legs

and come to pierce me at my hunger mark