Today's poem is by Rita Signorelli-Pappas
I believe I could have saved him.
What he wanted was easy: the poured
sweet wine of encouragement. A smile.
In another life he might have grown
a comfortable margin of flesh, he might
have kept all his teeth and been spared
translation into the skeleton's cage.
I would have kept an eye on him,
fed him with words passed like bread
broken into a confession of trust.
I would have revealed my own fast,
my own body ribboned into syllables
of bone. I would have untied
the sad bow of his mouth
looped and knotted for a kiss.
Copyright © 2009 Rita Signorelli-Pappas All rights reserved
from Satyr's Wife
Serving House Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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