You were standing behind
the wooden pillar
reading trite poems about unreciprocated
love, And I drank Haiku
tea – maybe the ginseng agitated
my delicates – please use Woolite,
when your ripples of red, red hair
wash my sandy shores and a sigh
from your dainty mouth ripples
my grass - and I knew
I must see you again.
You stood at the podium
I watched your lips open
your chest swell
a curl slip from your shoulder
connected by a spider web
to the woodgrain sweep of your hair
You walked from the stage, from the room, into my head
my five year plan is whisked away with a swish of your hips.
You stand behind the thick block
Letting syllables dance off your cherry luscious lipstick pout
you see our look and we are yours.