Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Kiss (Meghan)


Three ways:


The black of my dress melding
with the shade of your shirt,
your back pressed up against
the monument in pleasant surprise,
if I were that kind of girl.

Hauntings of the actual
resurfacing at first light.
Soon.  I will see you soon.


Pliable goodbye, you ask
by not asking.  Hesitant,
my left leg shaking without my

We laugh at honking onlookers,
wonder how to spell the other’s
last name.  It matters, but not
just now.


And not just tactile,
blood coursing brain vessels
because your lips
ate and drank with me,
uttered sentences forged in
another time, and waited
while mine moved, too.

Passing textbook paragraphs
explain the trigeminal nerve.
I forget to think at all.

Hunger doesn’t die, but
still is satisfied.

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