Laura Grodin- Two Poems

The Lover

He's back now.

Torn from an inside tendon, gripping

a muscle memory that is almost forgotten.

Foreign on tastebuds, hinting at a scent

that is wrong, but familiar. Feeling him

burns away fingertips.

There will be no evidence. Curling white roads

bring hands to pelvis, sliding down sweet;

a bone barricade protecting what is ours.

Knuckles burn like stair steps up my side,

protruding a cryptic message that only he

and I can read by neon light.

There is a streetlight in the distance, hovering under

his pitch-blue sky. I’m reduced to embers, poking at moments

we shared on my skin. When he left, the marks faded,

a reverberation of what used to be. My tail-bone echoed

as he passed, hollow from absence, simmering

on midnight air.

I Have the Sweeter Tooth

Dip a finger in salt, and it burns.

An assault of sorts, seeping into pores

so small they might not exist. Folds of skin

sewing themselves together, a fingerprint of dunes

driven bright. I have the sweeter tooth, I dip my finger

in fire, let it blaze a saccharine sweet, melting a glazed brown,

pasting the hands that used to be castle clean. Clear the crevices

of your mind where you know how sugar tastes, where you're sure

there’s a soul, where you balance the blast of burning blisters to flesh.




Laura Grodin is a recent graduate of Adelphi University's MFA Program in Creative Writing. A California native, Laura now resides in Brooklyn, NY. Her poetry can be found in Dreams and Nightmares, Rufous City Review, and Brevity Poetry Review.