poem

after the reception (for Grace Schulman)

"slivers of glass ignite bathroom marble, / and with the same fists that shatter / champagne flutes and mirrors, / he grinds luminescence into my back"

after the reception

Written for a dear professor, mentor, and friend who made me fall deeply in love with imagist poetry, many moons ago.

***

slivers of glass ignite bathroom marble,
and with the same fists that shatter
champagne flutes and mirrors,
he grinds luminescence into my back,
whispers perdoname,

and I do. I always do.
we chase sunrise after sunrise, past
vineyards on Montauk Highway.
scraps of rainbow tinsel thrash
in branches, a scintillating choreography

against swollen, sooty grapes.
but this harvest, too, will expire. he,
with the same mouth that kisses mine, swallows whole
while I sip at the hourglass, picking shards
of stars out of my teeth.

 

(Featured image: “Hot Day” by Peggy Jelmini)