Cleft

This entry is part 10 of 41 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Autumn 2012

Bend your head, I say to the child
who steps out of the bath,

so I can rub this film of oil
on your nape
. And as she does,

her long dark hair falls down;
and in it is the dusk of leaves

from the resinous woods;
and sunlight’s indelible

musk in the softest
spot of the crown.

Luisa A. Igloria
10 22 2012

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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About Luisa A. Igloria

Poet Luisa A. Igloria (website) is the author of Juan Luna’s Revolver (2009 Ernest Sandeen Prize, University of Notre Dame Press), Trill & Mordent (WordTech Editions, 2005) and 8 other books. When she isn’t writing, reading, or teaching, she cooks with her family, hand-binds books, listens to tango music, and keeps her radar tuned for cool lizard sightings.
Posted in Guest writers, Poems & poem-like things | Tagged | Spot a typo? Please let us know

One Response to Cleft

  1. Dave Bonta says:

    Oh, I love this one.

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