John Arndt
 

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That's My Flower In Your Mouth

You may not know it
But I hear you in that cafe
At night under streetlights with mandolins
The light carving out
Your own version of things
But it is you who missed the train
You who ask if there's anything I need
Who fawns in the morning light
Trembling at my desire.
I know you drink and complain
The world seems so unjust 
After dinner and aperitifs
Looking for your pretty girls
In the dark corners
When the mandolins have stopped.
The train is far too gone
Another night--Wasted.
That flower is a cruel joke
I know you flaunt it
But do you know what it means to me?
The moments of our love are in your mouth
Do not swallow them but savor.
Crave the flavor
Of our youth, our longing
Press it down between your teeth
And taste the blood of my desires.
Have you ever tried to touch?
Allowed me to touch you?
No.
We are orbits
That shall never cross
Resigned to this path
The tread of days toward death
Loving it while miserable.
That flower in your mouth
It is cut and dying
My blood sapped strength
In your cup overflowing
While you drink me up.

Series of 250

Printed on Somerset archiving paper
Size 11" x 17"
Signed and numbered
$24.95
+$5
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