Love Poem
Four hours and three states away it is safe to talk again;
shy smiles won't embarrass me; i will ramble
through this impersonal telephone to the faceless
voice i can't connect with you.
we spent the last night of my weekend visit
stacking quarters, nickels, dimes in concentric
circles between coffee cups on the counter,
avoiding all questions our eyes asked.
goodbyes linger; i think into the dial tone
how tomorrow you will be piecing small bits of metal
while i stack metaphors, link each word to next...
i want to write a love poem; i will tell you instead how it's been raining for days, until the parking lot
became all one puddle, iridescent with gasoline rainbows
and i wished you were here to splash in it with me
(so i could kiss you behind a curtaon of rain,
hair matted to skulls and skin click, not noticing the cold).
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