8/10/10

anatomy



cardamon
that is the flavor
that my lips
cannot forget
as i sit here
head in hand
palms over eyes
comma in my throat
recalling the meal
we prepared together
you stirred
i poured
we laughed
at the wine's illustration
still
on a tuesday
all this time later
i'm tryin to figure out
from which part
of our body
betrayal comes
not our hands
i'm certain
they are for writing odes
to love
holding desire near
nor our hearts
that sacred dwelling
for all that
is divine
not our shoulders
they are for leaning
upon
the closes i can surmise
is our knees
for
they are the halfway point
between our thighs
that cavernous
palace for all that is tender
and
our feet
coarse
from walking away

1 comment:

Bad Catholic said...

I would read your poetry to my wife but you know "She don't care about that romantic *!;#, She's worried about how to make some more money!"