Pink Coral

I had worn a white tank

But was not an angel

(not hardly)

Or a cloud

(though I can drift far from terra firma).

I was simply in a hurry

And it was handy.

My windows are small

And recessed.

They let in just enough street and moon light

To make out general shapes--

My bed.

My chair.

My flower vases.

You lay with your head against my chest, your bare back to the room, and I said,

"This is the desk where I write my poems.

These are my books,

And this is where I sit dreaming, afternoons, when I am free."

You heard none of this because you had fallen asleep.

You left a pink coral lipstick stain on my shirt,

In the spot you had both blemished and blessed,

Just there,

A little above my heart.



Mojo said…
Sometimes you just gotta let 'em sleep for a while. She'll wake up.
Cloudia said…
sweet poem, Shay

Aloha from Waikiki

Comfort Spiral
TALON said…
White and pink...and so bittersweet and ethereal all at the same time.
mac said…
A sweetness has befallen you...

Isn't it always the blemish that makes the blessing all the better?
Tabitha Bird said…
Oh I love that. the stain... perfect :)
Lynn said…
I love that ending "a little above my heart."
Daryl said…
'a little above my heart' ... sigh
Ileana said…
Aww...the best ending EVER! Love you, Chica!!
Mama Zen said…
This is a really sensual piece.
signed...bkm said…
love this piece, the description of the room, how beloved to the speaker - the lover unhearing, equal in love - yet different(as I read it)...lovely..bkm

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