hobart logo
A smoke caged kiss: 3 poems photo

I spent my

wedding night
beside the sink,

above an aced cup 
of bubble and a
strangers’ bowl.

We held each
Other, carving 
heaves to keep
them off
the walls,

shelling ourselves
from mother's
bridging one another 
to the left
and musicians the
Right. 

I was a shucked
nerve.
A new wife.
A lost bullet.

The cut rift in 
cream lace.

I smoothed my 
puffs
squeezed every
toe, redressed 
and returned.

 

Pan

It’s unfortunate
the velocity of such
winged creatures;
the astringency
the dust behind
the glimmer trail on
a base-line you’re too
nimble to really
need.

I know I do.

Our moth helix, tall
and tricky
and curious, tantric,
teaching me
to fly.

It’s funny.

To’ve sewn your shadow
to a thimble point,
a fertile side, a smoke
caged kiss, in wild
and secret spaces.

I mean,
it’s only love.

 

Dryad

I love his brain like
swollen leaves blindly
seek the sea; and
he prods my thoughts
like silver darts
tear gossamer from
trees.
I’ll never know a
sharper show of
frailty than he;
nor the taste of growth
in place of 
our disparity.
 


SHARE