In our youth, mouths still plump
with unspoken truths, you tattooed
your heart on my breast, lay
beside me on sagging mattresses
in cheap coldwater flats.
Trees curved sideways from
the blast of our innocence.
Our feet took different paths, but
I never forgot you.
Now, ash in my hair, mouth puckered
from too many soured kisses,
we find each other again.
You kiss my tattoo, faded and scarred,
bring my breasts close to your chest.
Trees move in the rising winds, dip
branches low, sing songs of a quieter
celebration deep into the sighing night.
Pris Campbell
©2004
Art: Venus by Ingres
6 comments:
P, your poems just get more beautiful! This one doesn't have the 'bitter' taste that so many of yours have (that's not an implied criticism, as I like and admire your bitter ones just as much); here, you have found a softer voice in which to express all the regret bound up in the lines - a tone well suited to the image which accompanies the poem.
You will have gathered that I quite like it! G.
Thanks, g
my poems DO change with my moods:-)
I love the progression here... you continue to astound.
Hi Erin
Thanks. Your comments are so nice to hear.
Pris
"In our youth, mouths still plump with unspoken truths,"
My favorite line. Beautiful poem.
Tammy, thanks. It's always good to get a visit from you.
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