Denied Perfect Connection

(Image of Myself Computed They Were Pearls by Emily Dickinson)

Your hand reached out for the 
Same book as mine
Veins standing out
Like flags 
Full of blood.
It lingered on my
Purple gloved paw
As we both stared at
Emily Dickinson's
Envelope Poems
Fall towards the floor.

You caught it before
I moved
You stood there
Collected calm
And said quietly
But firmly
For my ears only
"Want to go get a 
I don't have to go
To work until 
Four thirty."

I ordered a cola
That I knew I could
Not drink,
With a white paper 
Straw and wondered 
If I could go throw up
In the women's
Bathroom sink.
I was not prepared
To do the usual dance
Of sneak-wave smiles
And chitter chatter
She pulled off her mask 
And patted my arm
Then ripped off Emily's
Clear plastic cellophane
And read me a line 
About beauty and

I sat there not touching
The drink I could not 
Gloves and mask on
Though I removed my
Glasses so I could think.
And she read me lines
About summer and
Imitations of madness
And I realized how 
Young she looked
And how quickly time

She passed the book 
Over to me, and waited
Patiently, and I read
To her some lines 
About the color red
And the power of the
Her eyes were bright 
With an inner shine.
And when she had finished 
Draining a lemonade and 
Gin, she reached over to 
Me and brushed her lips
Against my skin. 

She tore a corner off
A City Lights receipt
And wrote her number 
On it, 
But I gave her a fake
One back in an act
Of cowardice and
You see if you ever 
Read this
It was not because 
I thought we didn't 
But because I feared 
We were perfect
And I would
Be forced
To live. 


  1. slpmartin

    Your verse has me pondering a number of topics..all dealing with our concepts of “self”…Oh…and I’d dare say “cute” won’t damage your street cred a bit. 🙂

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