June 2
That night we went camping in Tennessee,
I wanted to be close to you. Tangling
around woodsmoke, Elizabeth Bishop,
& star alignments, I forgot myself
when you started walking closer—the air
tightening. & it’s difficult to unweave
knots of desire once they tether to
telephone string, paper-cupped to the chest
—inhale, exhale. She is not right for you.
& I forget which one I mean. And I
keep thinking about the sound of your voice
when you stood next to me under the trees,
close enough that I could smell the cedar
blush of your skin—pencils and apricot.
What if I admitted that night I knew
your heart is a river that bends and bends,
its rhythm surging to an open space?
8 thoughts on "June 2"
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“keep thinking about the sound of your voice
when you stood next to me under the trees,
close enough that I could smell the cedar
blush of your skin—pencils and apricot.
What if I admitted that night I knew
your heart is a river that bends and bends,
its rhythm surging to an open space?”
This finale is so, so lovely.
Also, I hate making titles, and am awful at it, but this is good enough that it definitely deserves one beyond June 2.
I really like this poem.
“Tangling around woodsmoke”
“it’s difficult to unweave
knots of desire once they tether to
telephone string…”
And the finale does really make the poem.
I enjoyed the ending too
“inhale, exhale. She is not right for you.
& I forget which one I mean. And I
keep thinking about the sound of your voice
when you stood next to me under the trees,
close enough that I could smell the cedar
blush of your skin—pencils and apricot.”
Stunning. Absolutely palpable. I love it!
I love it !
I love this.
Also, nice name 😉