Poetry Contest Submission 4

Untitled

it was a business foot
massage, all elated business with some residual guilt,
like sunday school, like secrets.

the memories are these:
red polishthe
darkness, suddenstopping laughter
the way that it was painful
to think about:
a cut on the upper lip,
the way it
stings when you eat something
sour or
sweet.

business, it was called,
and business was
good
(when it wasn’t sharp or
nervous)
but the order, the chron
ology of it
was misshapen, unfixed
uncertain what parts were
toes or knees or chest
or mouthorhips

holding memories like a clock

to his chest to remind
it the right way to beat:

da dum. da dum.

“all business,” he muttered.
her laugh in the

dark.
small circles,
lungs heart waist
lower back,
hazy smiles like their mouths were floating
a fraction above their skin—

she hadn’t ever done this before,
she said, his hands on her
arches as he tried
to imagine her without any
skin. maybe she would offer him a
discount.
warm and dark
she fell back and he fell
forward,
smallcircles, uncertain, allbusiness.

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About loyolapoets

The Greyhound Collective Poetry Revival would like to consider “mission statement” in its simplest terms. Rather than reiterate the boundaries of our task, we simply express our aim: to become a mission – a party of individuals sent out into the world with a message meant to unveil a uniting principle of truth. We define this message as “poetry.” We promote poetry as a viable and vivid art form, alive and accessible. Freed from its ivory tower, our poetry will breathe life into an ailing form while fostering an artful relationship with the greater community. We assert ourselves under the following mantra: “your mouth is a sign of how sacred your life actually is.” As a collective, we write to be sanctified. View all posts by loyolapoets

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