, June 17, 2024

0 results found in this keyword

Spoons in Mid-air

  •   1 min read
Spoons in Mid-air
Pradeep via Flickr
by Vincent R. Pozon

I will not write of her thinning arms,
of the slowness of spoons, and I ride
every spoon, singing her mouth to open,

I will of her dancing, the jig that
she does when she preens with a dress
on days when aches stay longer in bed,

her fingers fumble inside her large bag
for pills, I see the breathing in her brows,
but she picks a smile from her bag to wear,

she has a cache of smiles in her bag,
fat and fleshy and shrieks at the scale
is the vogue I prefer to see on her,

each spoon is a movie started and slow,
I watch each spoon moving in mid-air,
feeding her mouth engorges my heart.

Related Posts

You've successfully subscribed to Our Brew
Great! Next, complete checkout for full access to Our Brew
Welcome back! You've successfully signed in
Success! Your account is fully activated, you now have access to all content.
Success! Your billing info is updated.
Billing info update failed.
Your link has expired.