Emma and Wayne  

Posted by Olsen Potter in

There exists, in my mind, a couple. They fascinate me more than the books I read. And every once in while I write a poem about them. Life would be richer perhaps if I wrote their story in novel form, and who knows, maybe one day I will, but for right now I write their story in poetry. I post their story so far for you to read and enjoy.

Baskets

Emma was standing outside
Barnes and Nobles
Holding a basket of books.

Wayne winked.
She smiled.

They’ve been
Reading each other ever since.


Wedding Night

In black and red passion
They strip each other
Of their innocence.
Like two ancient gods hammering out
The last of their thunder before
Reason and Logic overpower them.

Wayne lies in the double bed,
Naked, spent, imperfect, the power
of Gods flowing through him,
as he watches Emma,
Dark haired Emma,
wash the make-up from her face.

The water is stained the color of regret.


Lua de Mel

It was a 9 hour drive,
Made longer by Wayne’s reading of
Tartuffe for his English degree.
The only honey Emma found on the trip
Was the moment, in a Barnes and Noble
(they were browsing the relationship section
For a book on Oral sex), when Wayne,
Looking at an illustrated Karma Sutra,
Shut up about books,
Looked Emma in the eye,
And said, “hum.”

She loves it when he’s speechless.


Reasons

Emma’s mind, like the faint light
Floating in on Wayne’s pillow,
Hovers, then retreats
To life before marriage.

He kicks in his sleep.

Last night, she told him
he doesn’t share everything
with her.

The music of their marriage
Is made from bubbling cheese
And noisy kisses;

Not from lights that turn red for a moment
or Emma’s embraces.

She takes Wayne with her everywhere,
Sharing with him her fears,
her dreams,
The stress of her every day.

He couldn’t understand that
When she left.

The First Year

Emma went back,
of course.
Her mother told her,
"You picked him",
made her feel guilty,
made her feel unloved.

Wayne had done the dishes.

She found him sitting
in her chair,
next to the bookcase,
reading King Lear
with the cliffs notes.

She laughed and said,
"let me explain".

And she did.

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 20, 2008 at 9:15 AM and is filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the comments feed .

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