I have worn another groove in you
this one between the
clavicle and deltoid
carved a notch
under your sleeping chin
to fit my head
moulded an upright nipple
where my fingertips rest
as sunlight taps the window
your breath blows even
against my neck
my hands walk downwards
I haven’t
much time
This poem needs no explanation or introduction! I wrote it some weeks ago but post it today in honour of the season. Incidentally yesterday evening, Valentine's Day, was spent at a tango class where I practised "close embrace" - walking backwards in high heels with my face nestled against a stranger's chest, both of us learning to adjust our breathing, the lengths of our steps, so as not to cause any injury. It's more fun than it sounds. I danced with Mark too of course but talking about strangers makes it a better story.
3 comments:
Cool poem. I like your use of 'aubade'--& although 'technically' I believe the aubade voicee was a door or window frame addressing a sleeping woman that would be quite a challenge to pull off in the 21st century! I much prefer your approach ... :)
Lovely poem! I knew there was a reason I included Argentines in my novel...
Thanks Helen and Tim! I was taught that an aubade voice is from someone leaving his (it always seems to be a his) lover in the morning, feeling regret, but also satisfaction. But there's been many updatings! Tim - if you're ever in Auckland come to tango class - it's very good for the mind and seems to attract writers!
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