Thursday, January 24, 2019
INSIDE A WARM GRAY COCOON
listening to Trane
& Monk's Ruby,
My Dear
on a rainy New York
afternoon bending
into evening
allowing myself
to be soothed
by a love
that straddles time
& its infirmities.
Within the moist breath
of a whisper
I feel the hand
of my green-eyed lover
nestle into the small of my back
amid the smells of candy apples
& cotton candy on a steamy
Coney Island night.
Every once in awhile
she leans in
& kisses my neck.
A delicious shiver
wriggles inside me.
Mmm, I go.
I dare to cup her breast.
She does not
deny me.
We are coming from,
& on our way to
salvation.
We've come through
the briars
of adolescence,
but hold a rose
in each of our hands,
a red rose soft
but indestructible.
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2019
Labels:
A Rose,
adolescence,
Candy Apples,
Coney Island,
Cotton Candy,
First Love,
John Coltrane,
Monk,
My Dear,
Ruby,
Thelonious Monk,
Trane
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