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I Hesitated Too Long, My Lips Just Beginning to Pucker When She Opened Her Eyes


Gloria looked confused, insulted,
then ran for the doorway,
her hand over her mouth.

Hesitation’s my curse.
Even when I write
instead of letting a poem’s draft

spill out—
as if falling from a pocket
turned inside out

I hesitate at each word,
sending it out into the world
like an arrow shot

halfheartedly
into a shearing wind.
Everything’s destined

to fail, the philosopher
Zeno says:
nothing finds its destination,

neither a kiss
nor the closing line of a poem
—nor an arrow in flight,

each halving the space
between itself
and its target

forever.
My worst fear?
Gloria will always be running

for the exit—just
as I race behind to explain myself.
Even now my kiss

hangs in mid air
—still trying to close
the distance between itself
and Gloria’s lips…

Right blend of pathos and humor.

Thank you, Ken

I agree with Ken - you have pathos and humour here. I enjoyed the read.

The long title could almost be the 1st stanza - or perhaps a short title and 1st stanza.

I Hesitated

too long, my lips just
beginning to pucker when
she opened her eyes.

Just a thought
Eira

Thanks for the suggestion, Eira

I think this is your best poem this month, Bob.

You could shorten the title.
Maybe: I puckered up but then she opened her eyes.

Thanks, Ieuan. I'll consider your title. Best, Bob