The Salvageable Ones

I shall begin with the ones from college. The ones my professors actually liked... revised a million times since.

Unwarranted

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I adore the sun-kisses on his nose and the baby

Gaps between his teeth. I understand

When he takes my hand

And warms it between

His slender two,

He means the best in what he feels

He must confess.

I shiver when he leans into my middle ear to breathe

The pressing messages…

You can trust me. I will never do

What was done to you…

And I pull

My bruised, damp

Hand away.

© Copyright 2001 Joanna Brown