Two Women
Their intimacy is gloved,
moments dovetail
in a tea-room.
I color-in implied gestures,
listen
to words unheard.
They enter a confessional space
lips linger over visions,
oracles only they read.
Lipstick on China cups,
the twirled edge of a napkin,
the unclasped mouth of a purse;
pieces arranged on a tablecloth
of magnetic intimations
Then a diffident tilt into humor
they surface
as they settle the bill.
Leaving the café they kiss;
one of them seems to carry
the other's onus of care
sheltering her body from the cold.
I have a brief impulse to follow,
to stay awhile
in their mutual life raft.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2019
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