How a Woman Kisses a Ghost She Knows by Tricia Knoll
How a Woman Kisses a Ghost She Knows
I approach this as any woman might, a bit virginal.
Palm to palm, a forehead nod as if the Buddha waits.
Expect no cheek offered. Go lipstickless.
Print no more red marks on the dead.
Do not force another mitzvah of washing,
even one you might be willing to perform.
If you have not forgiven, offer an index finger first,
point toward a ceiling of uncertain outcome.
If you have forgiven, walk as if your toes tingle
and your knees know their backsides.
Swirl your hands like waltzing, as if you mean
to sculpt voluptuousness. Keep gloves out of sight.
Lick your lips. Be shy. Words may not
be necessary or accurate.
© Tricia Knoll
Tricia Knoll is an Oregon poet who is more often writing eco-poetry than kissing ghosts. Her work appears widely in journals and anthologies. Her poetry collections include Ocean’s Laughter (Aldrich Press, 2016) and a chapbook Urban Wild (Finishing Line Press, 2014). triciaknoll.com
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