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But the Kiss

by Lisa Marie Brodsky

I turned white on the sand. A touch of hot quickening.

We were seventeen,
eighteen,
awkward snails against the glass of each other.

We backed away, your eye a rolling black pearl.

08/20/2004

Author's Note: For Joel, wherever he is

Posted on 08/20/2004
Copyright © 2024 Lisa Marie Brodsky

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Maureen Glaude on 08/21/04 at 11:25 PM

brilliant metaphor, very effective and poignant.

Posted by Maureen Glaude on 08/21/04 at 11:25 PM

I'm nominating this for POTD

Posted by Kimberly Bare on 08/24/04 at 05:08 PM

lovely images...very poignant! Welcome to Pathetic...

Posted by Bethany Lee on 09/03/04 at 12:50 PM

i can hear the oceanwaves...

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