Monday, February 20, 2006

Salt Water

I choose not to get a tissue
when the tear slides around
that apostrophe curve of her nostril.

I maintain my body languange
from before her eyes started leaking
my arms crossed high-
covering cold, vulnerable nipples.

In moments like these I like to touch things-
fold, unfold napkins
crumple cough drop wrappers
strangle my fingertip with the bread tie.

In my head I keep score of spoken low blows
and wish my dining room had a chalk board
like the one in the basement by the pool table.
Many more games are played up here.

I once went to a kid-friendly restaurant,
sat at a black slate table on which toddlers
could scribble while they waited
for grilled cheese sandwiches.
I wish we had one in green.
We could wipe it clean
with the water from her eyes.

4 Comments:

Blogger Joe said...

Wow, Im just awestruck. So many sharp details. Makes me wish I could write like that.
Joe

Tuesday, February 28, 2006 6:51:00 PM  
Blogger Letajo said...

thanks, Joe. So glad to see a new face coming for a visit.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006 10:52:00 PM  
Blogger sigmund fraud said...

This is a complex multi- layered marvel. It has given the common day to day mundane situations an aristic and memorable shade. Loved it.

Sunday, March 05, 2006 5:19:00 AM  
Blogger Letajo said...

Fraud,
Thanks for stopping in..I'm wondering around your site now. Excited to have found it...

-Christine

Sunday, March 05, 2006 11:04:00 AM  

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