Matthew Zeller

She liked the feel of flannel, folded twice the band.
It rode perfect on pelvic crest,
highlighted hips and waist,
dared natural L’s of my hands-
...

We stood on treetops, waited for
fingers to glide through salted hair,
trace the creases of crow’s feet.
Playful bite. Nibbled ears
...

Floured hands kneaded,
pressed palms of her hands,
shaped to how she wanted.
She rolled him.
...

And just what business is it of yours
to decipher what a man’s thinking?
Is there a hidden meaning behind
the choice between bacon and eggs
...

Ask me in, this moment
at your door as you fumble keys.
I held the umbrella shielding
all of you, part of me,
...

A studied life- the all of it-
thoughts, just and once believed,
unraveled half-true muddled lies,
yarn spun in tangled weave,
...

I kept your sunglasses when you left,
stole them from your pocket purse
as you packed three years in a bag.
Hard to believe something so full
...

Left hand on the wheel,
the other turned ignition,
reached for the cell phone to
share the good news.
...

A smile as gently the robin sings,
perched, watching me give a garden tend.
He laughed when sunken footprints found,
the telling clues of stolen hosta blooms,
...

Though hazel eyes already led me in,
ventured the unexplored,
found the undiscovered,
a virtuoso left hand brushed my ear
...

The old, tired leaves and I- fading fast
to the dead of winter straight ahead
and January coming soon-
pray silent for a moment’s peace,
...

Sometimes I see her falling rain
through the foggy kitchen window.
Watch her sway in blossom trees,
whispers heard when raindrops splash,
...