Lilies at your wrist
and my lips against
your shoulder. All
of summer rolling
on the wind of our
laughter. Silk and stripes
and leaning into
the cajoling call
of the carousel.
Let’s feel new—
a blush and whispered
“I love you”—
not worn out,
or forever.
No you before
I turn to guide
hips to saddle,
gilded. No night
before we ride
its stars and promises.
Let me tell you
it no longer matters
who we are here.
Regal and unaffected.
Peanuts and woodchips.
Bliss breaking against
the shore. I’ll hold
your cape. And through
every exquisite orbit
I will wave.
–
Jen Rouse is the director of the Center for Teaching and Learning at Cornell College. Her poems have appeared in Poetry, Gulf Stream, Cleaver, SWWIM, Mississippi Review, and elsewhere. Her most recent Headmistress Press collection is Riding with Anne Sexton. Find her on Twitter @jrouse.