by Kathrine Yets
Kiss: fresh Cajun peppers and snap peas,
hint of nicotine
Leafy herbs, mint and rosemary, mix with
your scent in the summer breeze
Lust makes you carve grooves into
a patio table under a solstice moon
Your hair a knot he keeps tying
and tugging tighter
And you feel lighter, feel heavier, feel him
pressing his lips into your back
then a slight bite that turns your blood
to bees swarming
and your heart into a tomato blossom
opening slow
and fading fast as a summer’s day
too quick to enjoy the shade.
Kathrine Yets works as an English teacher. She loves teaching poetry to her students. Her most recent favorite line is, “Anger smells like the devil’s popcorn.” Her work can be found in Crab Fat, River & South Review, Magnum Opus, Fickle Muses, and elsewhere.
Portage Magazine 