First Date
Two foreign irises spark mine.Instantly and instantaneously beautiful.
It's unnerving, strangely, to feel from a stranger.
Dark locks of her hair fall in secret confession,
Dangling at the sides of her rose blossomed cheeks.
A foreign perfume lingers over tossed linguini,
Spilling Springtime between the flickering shadows-
Thrown by the flames of two candles that twist and tango.
White wax crawls the cracked wooden table,
Before retiring into cloud formations
That we take turns interpreting.
We speak in morse code for some time,
Before we pull our roots.
We're awkward, but alive-
And we give ourselves up to chance.
We are locked out of reverse,
We are don't look back,
We are perfect improvisation.
We speak about honesty, earnestly.
But our lips abandon us and get lost somewhere,
They know their risk,
They know they are dare not truth,
And words become hard to articulate without them.
I am a mash of senses.
I am senses full.
The accelerated beat of my heart rattles
Our half-full wine glasses.
My breathing, loud and irregular,
With the lung collapse of excitement.
We are anatomy now.
I can hear your bio.
I can feel you bio.
Tonight will seal us-
Or steal us from my history and yours.
And we couldn't ask for more from a stranger.
Poetry by Shawn Monahan
Read 859 times
Written on 2008-02-01 at 21:43
Tags Love Date
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