Monday, August 24, 2009

Astor Place

Yesterday, we did what we always do--
wander and walk, her with her happy
pigeon-toed gait, me with my heavy feet,
the words between our bumping beats
as fine as a strand of her hair.
We talked books and boyfriends
and avoided the subject of falling.
When we could use taro cold
and coconut warm ceramic cups
of bubble tea as props,
our conversation thickened heavy
as my pony-tailed hair, the space between
filled with sips of thought, swallows before talk.

Copyright 2009 Xiomara A. Maldonado

1 comment:

  1. i like this poem even more upon reading it again. the language really does feel rich, so much goes unsaid in the poem just like between the two figures you're describing. it's beautiful.