2010 Poetry Parade: Day 24
Five Thousand Times
If it’s true—you, me,
five thousand times more likely
to crash in a car than
in a plane—we should kiss
as we are kissing now,
outside the airport, in a downpour,
every bleary morning, every time
one of us grabs the keys,
kiss hard enough to register
the friction, the precise
tilt of our heads, hint of salt
on our lips, heat or thaw
of something nebulous,
edgeless, that we long to carry
in a pocket, glue to the underside
of skin, hear in a rustling
willow tree as it sways with all
our many-weathered kisses, tangles,
the fringe of every held breath
and this one-and-only gaze
in the rain, in the splatter
of car horns and thunder,
of little choice but for one of us
to head inside, the other to drive
away, and both to flash a last
halfhearted smile through
the windshield wipers’
© by Christine Rhein.
First published in Scythe Literary Journal, Volume 1.
Used with the author’s permission.
See more about Christine here.