the river

a city poem about people who live between the natural world and the world of their material creation.

we were halfway through the task of finishing
an R & B after-business hour
in relative relation to each other
when the river returned
from the kitchen doors
through the centre
of the crème-coloured lounge
gurgling and sputtering where autumn leaves
choked its path, and maple petals wound round
our feet, cushioned on cashmere
the scent of earth and algae mixed with delicate
cocktails and wines

the river climbed up the bar and flowed down
over the coffee tables, over the conversation
waiting to froth and burst upon our lips
drench us in cold fullness
dry heat crackling from the golden lights
against the splash
flames atop the candles
swaying from the rush

one more of these held moments
before I kneel down
to drink the water
before we return to the flow

one more gentle impression of lipstick on his cheek
and a dance together
as the waiters rotate around us
like a white and gold carousel
laced in black ribbon

© lyw

This poem is a sample from the lyw variations poetry chapbook by lyw.