Sunday, October 27, 2013

Old Poems ReFound

Two toothbrushes sit in a mason jar
on the bathroom counter. One falls,
pulled by gravity, head first into the other.
Their bristled bodies rest
against each other

and I do not understand
how such rigid objects can wrap themselves
around each other so softly-

I am longing for your nearness and wonder,
as I search my own flourescent reflection
in the bathroom mirror,

how is it that the insides of our pink lips can
lean into each other like this-
when our jaws are set against
a single, small word?

November 6, 2010

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