Tapping on a glass pane
At a table, you glimpse
a prominent, square jaw
Perched on a slight earnest body.
Yet there is something evasive
And straining in her beauty.
From the girl, you now direct
Your eyes to the menu
Plastered on your side of the glass.
You chant a few names & descriptions off the top, roll these sounds around On your tongue, as your eyes saunter back inside the establishment and sweep the multitudes Till that face swims back from the smoke. You interrogate it as you pretend to read through the wine list.
“What is the name you chant when kissed? How do you measure love? What do you hide behind your fistful of heart?” The pane answers back with your face. Then it’s time to face away, Then it’s time to step back into The rain, with questions unanswered, dishes, now with familiar names, uneaten.
My Poems
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