in the tavern

around the table sat
the poet and his harem of words –
some of them he caressed, some he kissed
or he planted among their vowels a smile,
to some he bit the letters until they bled
while he barely dared to touch the roundness of others
with the tip of his tongue.
and the poet looked at his words,
as they sat there chained to one other,
and the flickering candle light danced in the corners of his mouth
like a hot odalisque,
then, when he felt night’s ink coagulating
in their veins,
he looked at them one more time
and then moved to another table.

© 2014 Liliana Negoi

originally written in Romanian

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Comments
2 Responses to “in the tavern”
  1. ahh what a relationship you paint of the poet and his words. And as always you choose your words with such precision – the sibilance that hisses throughout this piece so cleverly reflects that flickering candle light and tavern scene.

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