Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Your Kiss (2/52)

Your Kiss

white glitter
piled over the bushes and flower beds
shimmering
silver
underneath the obsidian blue
winter night

 each step
snowflakes waft into the air,
fall like fireworks
and fade into my ankles

 the powder melts
between my toes
and freezes again;
each bone
an exposed steel beam
covered in frost

 I inhale

 the door latch
gasps open

 light pours
a gold silhouette
over me

 I step
inside
the greenhouse

 a cliffside hot spring
squeezing orange juice for breakfast
lying face up in a field of freshly bloomed daffodils

 the iron behind me
shuts
and locks
at
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2 comments:

  1. carlos williamsJanuary 17, 2018 at 6:56 PM

    I always wanted more short Max poems. Happy 2018.
    Also- have you read Sandburg's Chicago poems? Your city/building imagery took me there, I like it. Where's that comin from?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ManuelJanuary 23, 2018 at 9:32 AM

      honestly have no idea. but leaning into the idea of trying to just let a poem be a moment and nothing else.

      I'll check out Sandburg

      Delete

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