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.


Blogger Joe said...

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

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...

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


Sunday, March 05, 2006 11:04:00 AM  

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