looking for my poet in shining metaphor

once I fell in love with a boy
and I wished that he was a poet

but there are none of those
here or anywhere

men whose words flow honey
in my ears
in my mouth
in my navel

men who love wildly
with wreckless abandon
whole-hearted and insane

every thought in rhyme
in synch with every dream
we poor unpoetic fools might dream

Is it too much to want a poet?

If you know his bright eyes
and cool clear laughter
and you hide him from me
I hate you.

I despise you wretched wenches
who would keep me from my poet

I have bequeathed to you
every knight in every last
bloody shining bit of armor

and all I've asked in return
is that bard whose tummy is soft
and reflexes too slow to kill

that beautiful man who is far more handsome
inside where everything he says is song
and everything he speaks is art.

I despise you, my sisters
who know my love and stash him
away in my dreams where I can not touch him.

I hate you,
I hate you all.