A Few Poems

Spite

I should have said yes
or at the very least maybe.
Still, no for spite tasted good
and hearty upon my tongue.

Unexpectedly, the word fell upon itself
sliding backward down my throat
to settle like a stone in my stomach,
a rock upon my conscience.

Cracking beneath its weight,
I should have said I'm sorry.
But apology tasted like spite
so I took another bite instead.

Royal Flush

You-a paper king,
decorative tissue and gilt,
sparkle with glitter meant to attract.
You are a Valentine of sugar and salt
unable to withstand Love's precipitation.

I-a queen of stone,
weighted thoroughly by care,
so solid, dull, forever still.
I am a heart of earth
unmoving in my constancy of Love.

We do not match,
nor in any fashion meet same with same.
Yet we romance as if this rhythm
--lovely, lovely, lovely--
plays true.