ManicDDaily

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–