poems

Black

Crisp pearl seafoam

Swirled

Onto the burning coals

Of your almost empty

Paper Chalice

 

And when your Aphrodite

From within the froth

Curved to find

The Jukebox

From another century

Your softer shoes

Walked into the 80s

 

Your soul

Singing in blacker eyes

Making your

Thin cup

Seem

Fuller somehow

Your hair

Seem

Longer now

And your face

Less

Pockmarked

 

How

You didn’t belong

In my coffee shop

This Wednesday

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s