Palms flat across the cover
of Samuel Richardson’s
Clarissa. Or, the History
of a Young Lady,
I press down hard
on the neatly tucked edges.
Here, finesse is key
as is timing
and picking a book
large enough to
contain the blossom.
Petals fanned out,
pale-pink filaments and pistils—
I open and close,
swipe and smooth
a few times
to even the press.
Likewise,
your hands ease me
shoulder then shoulder,
hip then hip,
place and position,
until I appear flat.
Flushed, promising
from your angle
pressed correctly.
But love,
nothing you can do
will keep me.
Rebecca Thill is a full-time graduate student and a part-time baker. Her poetry has appeared in East Coast Ink Magazine and some non-fiction pieces appear on elephantjournal.com. She enjoys any activity that involves being outside, more specifically activities that involve the sun. Crime shows and documentaries will always disgust and intrigue her. And she would be perfectly content if she moved to a cabin in the mountains where she could spend her days hiking and writing. You can find her on Twitter at @bec_caw
Categories: Poetry, Themed, Unfortunately I can't love you
Tags: Anatomy of Impatiens, e-zine, ezine, hyperbole, longing, melancholy, melancholy hyperbole, poem, poet, poetry, Rebecca Thill, submit, unfortunately I can't love you, writing