By Mary Moore Easter
peach of a grape

                           in his fingertips

                                                        like holding home

            he noses its musk

Taste, he says

                         and parts my lips with a globe and

                                                                                   a thumb I lick

                                                        I bite the thick skin

                           His Arkansas aches

                                                                                                on my tongue

                           His hand vines my chin my throat

My face flames

                                To the lady on the bus

                                                          he brags

                                                                          Her blush comes from my touch.
Better to marry than to burn

                          she quotes

                                         She don’t know us

Source: Poetry (April 2013).


This poem originally appeared in the April 2013 issue of Poetry magazine

April 2013
 Mary Moore Easter


Mary Moore Easter is a Cave Canem Fellow and professor of dance emerita at Carleton College. Her chapbook is Walking from Origins (Heywood Press, 1993).

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Poems by Mary Moore Easter

Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Living, Marriage & Companionship, Love, Desire, Activities, Eating & Drinking

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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