Morning News
Michelle Quick
Love is so absent these days
morning news feels like intimacy.
Dulcet tones of death tolls and disease please
give me affectations in a low-pitched purr
like the thump thump of a summer melon.
There’s music at the market today.
An upright Bellafina fills
the hollows, dances on my tongue.
The technique, he says, is all in this hand
fingers here and back, here and back
they curve and ride
the dip above my hip
slide around until I sigh.
He likes my voice.
With its smoky snare
he thinks my depths infinite
finds himself in the honey the harmony
of braided legs warm thighs bodies,
a crescent moon, soon dimmed by sun
eagerly bellowing brightness.
When he whispers into my neck
as if we are familiar
as if he’s earned a secret
I stare out the window
wondering about the price of gas.
Michelle Quick is a writer and teacher from the Midwest. She has an MFA from University of Nebraska Omaha, where she received an Academy of American Poets prize. Her words can be found in Esthetic Apostle, The Laurel Review, Moon City Review, Camas, and elsewhere. She spends her free time dreaming of New Zealand. Michelle is the Founder of The Howler Project and a Fiction Editor of The Good Life Review. Visit her website.
