In the Cupboard

By Michael Aaron Gallagher

The softness of your cheeks,
your lips no less enchanting
speak, of intellect and whispered
murmurs dancing twirls beneath
the canopy of stars unfallen.

Your dark hair tumbles
like the wind-blown mane
your eyes lost in the same
childhood game of unbridled
galloping across the tundra unfrozen.

Love me, and I will understand
how to make the sweet preserves of love, teach me
the angled intricacy of the architect’s maps
and I will sweep them under the rug
Know this, though your breath
will be unable.

Together we will find the jar.

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Excerpt from Michael Aaron Gallagher’s unpublished, untitled book of poetry circa 2003. Copyright © 2003.

The above work is not to be used,  reprinted or broadcast without written permission from the author.