Two Poems
by Vince O'Connor

She

 

She hangs kisses from my earlobes

sews our fingers together

with red wine thread

drinks coffee when I drink tea

and tea when I drink coffee.

 

She kisses the backs of my hands

with a warm mouthful of sunshine

holds me tight with ghost freckled arms

makes me cry with unbridled happiness.

 

I am drunk on this woman

dizzy from lips of ripe strawberry pie

who reminds me it isn’t

frozen February every day,

but sometimes it’s

a hot August night.

 

 

 

Losing

 

as age accumulates

it is the loss

of possibility that lacerates

my soul

 

old love

letters and

photographs recall the betrayal

of dreams long

ceded to adulthood

 

I stare at closed and

locked doors that

line the past

 

and the scarcity

of those left waiting

to be opened

as I walk towards

the vanishing point

 

 

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