Thursday, April 8, 2010

Lover, Best Friend, Brother

First day I saw you, you walked in black like panthers,
claws tucked inward, eyes a beautiful sorry sag
like the mother's breast; I'm sorry you lost her
so I'm trying to love you better at all times,
especially when your mouth gets dry & sandy,
becoming a cushion for flies.
I want to turn into clay with you,
stop time like music on our very own road trip.
The first time my heart became a wheel,
well it was with you.
Loving never felt so skinned,
everything peeled off, nothing mattered
but you:
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6 comments:

  1. flaubertApril 8, 2010 at 9:01 PM

    Richelle,
    This is such a beautiful poem! Thanks for commenting on my post.
    Pamela

    ReplyDelete
  2. Richelle DodaroApril 8, 2010 at 9:22 PM

    Thanks, Pamela! And thank you for your kind words regarding my mom.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Greg O'Connell Poet in SchoolsApril 8, 2010 at 9:38 PM

    "I want to turn into clay with you" and "The first time my heart became a wheel..." gorgeous work! =)

    ReplyDelete
  4. AnonymousApril 8, 2010 at 10:04 PM

    I am starting to think of you as the Poet Laureate of Seton Hall. This reminds me of so many things, it's absolutely beautiful!

    ReplyDelete
  5. AnonymousApril 8, 2010 at 11:38 PM

    Wow. Good stuff. Love the "heart became a wheel" part.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sara KearnsApril 10, 2010 at 3:02 AM

    'One of your best, I think. 'Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

    Btw, I really like your sidebar links - 'nice addition. And yay for aspca and wwf -- and siren. :)

    ReplyDelete

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