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Tuesday, June 28, 2016

"She is Kissable Violet-Pink" by Christopher Fox Graham

She is kissable violet-pink
all radiant silver laugh lines
beneath upscale eyes offering underbrewed coffee
to a highway rat fresh off the road
nickel smiles traded for news stories and directions

she is a next-morning destination
an I’ll-be-back-again
a when-do-you-get-off?-too-forward-too-brash bitten tongue
till it bleeds crimson lotus blossoms

her thank-you handshake turns heart to whipped mint

if home was not five hours across the ripe peach Arizona desert
I would ask to make her my morning
until liver turned mild evergreen in decades hence
and ate me alive from the inside
her hips, my early morning sun
even under cloudy skies

I could swallow her until arching back scrapes the heavens
until she swears the sun
has changed to Niagara reef jade
until she forgot the language of ancestors
and this modern tongue
due to mine
swallowed the stars
and spoke something celestial
best translated as
“applause please”

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