ONLY A WRITER
a girl, Italian, big hips,
tattooed legs, comes in
my store every week
to buy groceries.
I’ve been meaning to talk
to her but all I get out is:
“can I help you?”
and
“uh, excuse me…”
and all I can get out of her
is:
“no…”
and
“mhmm…”
though our conversations are short,
I feel we have something going on,
a little pitter patter floods my heart
every time I see her.
I must think of something
smooth to say to her,
something clever,
like in one of my poems
where a light shines
at the end
and a smile enters
the heart.
You Are Beautiful, Don’t Let Anyone Tell You Different
.
your eyes write books.
your mouth plays songs.
your body is an orchestra.
you are not one
that needs to create.
you are a creation.
be still
and wondrous.
Followers
About Me
- Black-Listed Magazine
- Black-Listed Magazine is an online literary magazine. We publish on a rolling basis: weekly, daily, sometimes hourly. Send submissions here: blacklistedmagazine@hotmail.com
1 comment:
This poem is lovely. In the real sense of the word. It is also very economical.
Joseph Hargraves
Post a Comment