To reinvent a lover, erase fingerprints, lines
in a palm; whether she climbs trees or throbs
her clit on your knee. Paint over peeling
wallpaper in a rented room:
lime green stains, cheap roses. Open your lips,
her legs and let language slip
like a yolk from a broken shell.
Treaties shiver under blankets.
An oath is an icy bridge after drinking.
Return to Index of Poetry
by Erika Kulnys