01 July 2012

Aftermath Class

                                                                                                             L.L. Dean 2012

















how she held back
hair from fountain
lips breaking up
silver vaulting

while squatting and
and fumbling at
my locker my
coldblooded mind

forsaking all
numbers i twirled
the knurled nose of
my lock and watched

four pink finger-
prints charming on
that flagrant nape
unmoved she flew

past my torn mouth
numinous and
promising as
a fervent frog’s

2 comments:

  1. Oh this makes me think of when I met Brian in the halls of our high school. Twenty-one years and strong.

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    Replies
    1. Hey Shannon,
      Thanks for dropping by! And for sharing how the poem prompted a great memory.

      Hope you continue to browse around...

      Regards,
      B.R.

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