Cory McClellan

Cafe Taganrog

I overheard a joke in a map,
burned my ears with snowdrops.
I didn’t understand the language of her laughter,
mouth shook like a pigeon feather,
telling a poem with only one word.

Reading a Russian-English dictionary,
writing a letter,
a girl opened her raspberry tea stained lips;
ticklish tongue
stumbling over the translation of kiss.

She didn’t notice me inside her pencil,
reading about her ancient city,
waiting to bite the music off her teeth.

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Poem Edited: Thursday, January 6, 2011

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