Cherie Mort Poems

If someone were to ask me
What I thought of my trip to Greece
From so many summers ago,
I would not say I thought of the swaths of cerulean sea,
...

You flit about my apartment, murmuring odd mutterings to yourself such as,
''What is this strange contraption? I've never seen anything like it in my life'' as you play with my equipment
But you're not alive, are you?
No, you've been gone a very long time
...

You were so warm when I met you today
Your blue eyes happy and welcoming
I was immensely shy, and curled away from you
You lightly teased me about my timidity
...

I roll the red, rounded object in my hand
And give it to my sister
She pulls off the red wax and reveals the milky white cake underneath
I draw the dark blue curtains sprinkled with gold stars
...

I like to smell the sweet scent of lemon juice as I slice thin circles of citrus onto my cutting board, the rind making a soft sssh
sound as my knife separates its layers.

I pick up a round slice of lemon and pop it in my mouth. The taste is so sour that my mouth puckers, making the rest of my face contort as it follows suit. For a moment my face is frozen in a sour expression, slowly decompressing from its painful prison.
...

What is it about a tangerine that puts me in a happy mood?
Its orange glowing peel reveals the fruit I want to eat.
Sometimes I toss the tart orb into the sky and pretend it is the sun, shining bright, warm rays onto me.
Other times I roll it back and forth on a desk, feeling its pockmarked flesh against the palm of my hand.
...

I can still smell her perfume on my fingers
I can see the ebony silk of her shoulders undulate in a dance
I can hear the deafening music as it blasts loudly into my ear
I can feel the nylon smoothness of her dress as she suddenly presses me to her breast in a hasty embrace
...

You are a walking bruise, my love
You're always hurt, I know
And yet you cannot fathom
It comes with me when I go
...

Coconut lemon cake
A sugar-coated heartbreak
Makes me wonder how you've been. Is it
Easy to accept that I left, by my own
...

I look up at the twisting branches of our apricot tree
And see many yellow-orange fruits
Maybe if they're ripe today, I'll pick some
But I have to keep the squirrels at bay for now
...