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Poems by Sara Kinninmont
THE SAME PLAID SHEETS
tracing
the lines of his Celtic tattoo
her fingertip
following the lines- intricate lines
of unknown meaning
to her
their
limbs entwined
heavy with lethargy
she licks his shoulder
holding the salty
taste
on her tongue
questions and chatter
threatening
to steal the moment
how is it
she finds herself
here
again
in a bed
so familiar yet
faded by years
on likely
the same plaid sheets
as years before
but with a new
roommate on the other side
of the wall
playing
the same
monotonous song
CONVERSATION PIECES
The iron gladiator helmet
a gift
given to me in my twenties
I placed it on the bookshelf
next to
my copy of Marguerite Duras’ The Lover
The helmet and the book both by-products
of love
affairs between young women and much older men
Can a man in his forties truly
have known
what I wanted or needed?
Apparently not, case in point
one ugly
metal gladiator helmet (unsuccessfully masquerading as a love token)
Now, the helmet is simply a
conversation piece
as is the relationship from which it spawned
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