Love Poetry: Midnight In Portsmouth

by Amanda Lewis
(Portsmouth, Ohio, USA)

'It was the perfect night for walking floodwalls,
warm air tickling our napes,
blue-gray clouds dappled the sky
while a single star shone above the glare of city lights.

Flowers bowed their heads for picking:
white roses with falling petals,
magnolia blossoms plucked from schoolyard trees,
and yellow lilies to tuck behind my ear.

Following you down theatre corridors
stuffy with the scent of heat and concrete,
a smell I tried to remember,
while climbing stairs to a small door on the roof.

We traded dreams and miseries
while throwing rocks onto the street below
trying with all intent to be the first
to strike a piece of the dirty manhole.

We took the long way home
to see the city from another direction
and clasped hands while lying face to face
our legs beneath the covers “twisted up like vines."

My fingers traced the line of your tattoos,
thin whelps of images branded with ink
while we whispered in the dark
questions that I never answered honestly.

We shared breath that night
as you apologized for being a poor kisser
and told me stories of backwards alphabets,
our fingers touching in imitation of pulsing hearts.

I fell into a dreamless rest
with your chest pressed against my back,
sweet exhales of sleep along my neck,
I woke with a fleeting kiss pressed to my temple as you left.

With hands fisted tightly together
I pray for the first time in a year that once again I
hear your canvas shoes slapping the sidewalk as you walk,
following your voice into a bedroom we briefly shared.'

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