A Gamble, Love
A Gamble, Love
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,
my lips two blushing pilgrims ready stand
to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss–
————–William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet.
“The cards–they turned against me, baby–
though every single one I played for you–
‘cause you deserve the best–you, my best lady–
the best a man could have, and that’s for true.”
He bends to kiss my belly with near beard,
shuffling belly, beard and smooth and rough so well,
a warmth is dealt that pays no mind to word,
a heat of coupled past, skin-wanded spell–
and the heap of ash–my heart an hour before,
waiting, stirs as with sharp sticks or flinted stones
as stubble apes a spark—”Not like that whore,
damned queen. I would have had a flush–” he groans–
“You lost it all?” My whisper asks his hair.
Lips to nipple, his reply. ”All?” I ask
again, voice lower. His fingers mouth despair
and slow. And, as head lifts, cold finds a path,
a gap between the rise of his chest, chin,
a gulf between my breasts, and seeps to where
hips join, a lunar plexus of thin
chill–“I had great hands,” he says; I stare.
This is both a kind of draft poem and completely fictional! Ha! But I was thinking of Kerry O’ Connor’s wonderful prompt on With Real Toads that quoted Shakespeare –”love is a tender thing”–from Romeo and Juliet- and asked for poems on a varied theme of love and enmity. I thought of these other lines from Romeo and Juliet, which led to a different idea of a hand. The poem has so many odd breaks, I feel like I should do a reading to make the sound clearer, but life will not make that possible today. One thing, in my poetry, breaks are only intended to be taken where punctuated–i.e. by a comma or period–and not at the end of a line– Thanks! Have a great weekend and Valentine’s Day–
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