This is a poem that turns from flirtatious and light to dark and foreboding. It’s a testament to how we sometimes wear our pasts on our faces.
The air hostess said put out all smoking
materials but she didn’t specify cigarettes, cigars, or pipes.
I said to her in my heart, you have beautiful love
material and I didn’t specify either.
She told me to fasten and tie myself to the seat
and I said I want all the buckets in my life
to be shaped like your mouth.
She said she would like coffee now or later or never
and she passed by tall as the sky.
The small scar high on her arm showed that she
will never have small pox and her eyes showed
that she would never again fall in love.
She belonged to the conservative party
of souls who have only one great love in their life.