Another Love Poem / Elegy
by Despy Boutris
another love poem
This is an ode to you in your sweats,
sitting on the couch, reading the paper
with a hot cup of coffee in your right hand.
I want to stroke the curve
of your calf, kiss the bit of skin revealed
between your sock & the hem of your sweats.
There is something about the visible vein
on your chest, the bright blue branches
on the tops of your feet, the inside
of your arms. You begin to bite at a hangnail,
& I want to hold your hand. You lean forward,
& a strand of hair falls over your face.
I like you best like this: on Sunday mornings,
eyes still swollen with sleep, toes
clutching the lip of the coffee table.
I like watching you best like this: clueless,
not hiding your face behind the crook
of your arm. & this is how I like life best:
you & me all tousled hair, the sound of cicadas
outside, the stray cat mewing at the backdoor
right on schedule—so like me, thirsting
for your gentle hand to glide down her spine.
elegy
It’s late & you miss him,
so you decide to take a walk—
no mind the fogdrops dropping
from pine trees. I want to go back,
you decide, to where we last saw each other.
You want the fog to clear. You want
to see his multicolored irises shine
in the light of the moon again.
You want to say here is my dress, my hair,
my mouth, take me with you. It’s not safe
here, you see. & death is safe. In death
there’s no mourning.
How much you would give
to hold his hand again.
You would settle
for an accidental brush
of fingers.
Despy Boutris's writing has been published or is forthcoming in American Poetry Review, American Literary Review, Southern Indiana Review, Copper Nickel, Colorado Review, The Adroit Journal, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere. Currently, she teaches at the University of Houston, works as Assistant Poetry Editor for Gulf Coast, and serves as Editor-in-Chief of The West Review.