It's just poetry, it won't bite

It’s grass growing on the mirror

06.22.20 Posted in today's words by

Simon Perchik’s most recent poem to appear here was “You lace one shoe with thread, the other” (May 2020).

It’s grass growing on the mirror
and every Spring more smoke
blacking your teeth –the dress

looks like hers, tossed off
piece by favorite piece and death
not yet shoulders and hips

—without a fuss she is touching you
though you are moving closer
as the lips that wait inside

and smoldering –it’s half a mirror
hardly enough for its kisses to fall out
look at each other and the afternoons.

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