By Bruce Parker
Copyright ©2025
This is what I meant to say,
the kiss, which you so often turn aside,
truncate, make barely a punctuation,
this kiss is my statement, meant to be
deep and everlasting, as hunger for you
consumes me, the kiss a plunge
into warmth, where I long
to let my lips linger until you begin
to speak in tongues.
I meant to say leaves lift their faces
into the sunlight of a hot day
and your laughter with companions
drifts into my window to stay in
memory of you
as one of the leaves.
The history of the world creeps forward,
disaster foretold and retold as favorite fables,
but the sunshine in the garden is private,
it fills blooms and trees with its secret
which could be called love or indifferent energy
poured upon our home in the sun
where one of us is always thinking,
about how the end of everything
might come collectively or be a pure,
individual event of no significance.
I meant to say this does not matter
so long as we kiss.
About Bruce Parker:
Bruce Parker has published two chapbooks, Ramadan in Summer, (Finishing Line Press, 2022) and Tears for Things (Plan B Press, 2024). He holds a BA in History from the University of Maryland, Far East Division, Okinawa, Japan; and an MA in Secondary Education from the University of New Mexico. His work appears or is forthcoming in Triggerfish Critical Review, The Field Guide, Wild Roof, Cerasus (UK), Feral, and Prairie Schooner. Married to fellow poet and artist Diane Corson, he lives in Portland, Oregon.