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allison-rosePoems
With my first words I struck a match Like a flick On the zipper of a faded pair of jeans She notices Unalarmed Not convinced I bring the flame (Flickering with ambivalence) Up to my face Square between my eyes And she watches She watches Behind glasses of dis-concern The gloss of her eyes Reflecting the light Like lies I make a motion As if to blow out The flame A whispered apology But instead It catches with a click The steps that lead across A wood-framed arch Between my eyes and hers Heat-soaked hands Climbed like a ladder Rung by rung To the space of disbelief Living in the “o” of her mouth The flames race Faster Burning the bridge To the ground
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Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 5:42 PM UTC
Burning Bridges
With my first words I struck a match Like a flick On the zipper of a faded pair of jeans She notices Unalarmed Not convinced I bring the flame (Flickering with ambivalence) Up to my face Square between my eyes And she watches She watches Behind glasses of dis-concern The gloss of her eyes Reflecting the light Like lies I make a motion As if to blow out The flame A whispered apology But instead It catches with a click The steps that lead across A wood-framed arch Between my eyes and hers Heat-soaked hands Climbed like a ladder Rung by rung To the space of disbelief Living in the “o” of her mouth The flames race Faster Burning the bridge To the ground
Written by
allison-rose
American
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 5:42 PM UTC
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