“Storm Caught” by Flower Conroy

Storm Caught

What my not turning away says.
You removing

your soaked shirt
in the doorway.

My being made
unprepared by curve

& dip. That a deluge
begins in sun.

That if rain triangulated
your stomach,

glazed your ilium, from where I
froze, I could not

attest Yes
or No. Understand

my staring as a puddle
engulfing a ship,

my silence the ghost
ship of that ship,

its drowned quarry.
Drenched from chin to waist,

you wrung
your shirt

then elbowed back in,
almost-blue-

cotton, clinging
to your ribs.

Flower

Flower Conroy Punch Drunk Press’s third Featured Woman Poet this August! She is the author of the chapbooks Facts About Snakes & HeartsThe Awful Suicidal Swans; and Escape to Nowhere.  Her poetry has appeared in American Literary ReviewPrairie Schooner, Gargoyle and other journals. She is the current Poet Laureate of Key West. 

Featured image by chuttersnap

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