by Ilya Kaminsky
I kissed a woman
whose freckles
arouse the neighbors.
She possessed two girlish nipples
which she displayed
like medals for bravery.
Her trembling lips
meant come to bed.
Her hair waterfalling in the middle
of the conversation meant
come to bed.
I walked in my barbershop of thoughts.
Yes, I carried her off to bed on the chair
of my hairy arms
but parted lips
meant kiss my parted lips—
Lying under the cool
sheets, Sonya!
The things we did.
Copyright ©:
Ilya Kaminsky
Last updated April 03, 2023