IN TURGENEVSKAYA

You smile
because I wanted to pick you flowers
that first time we met,
on those stairs,
and you react
with such determined
dispassion
so this thing you despise
forms
your programmed response.
Your elaborate mouth
can only taste the sweetness of confectioned love
you imagine etched on mine,
and your rolling eyes won’t see
that it’s not because I think you like them—
but because
I want you to recall
their precise shade of yellow,
and remember
just another day
on stairs
in Turgenevskaya-
when you picked them
for me,
and I hated yellow flowers.

4 Comments

  1. i like the phrase “determined dispassion,” because it is “fresh” and evocative. it also reminds me of how we are always trying to “read” our companions, our lovers. i have re-read the last ten lines several times because the thoughts and “music” are so lovely. and anyone who can gracefully work “Turgenevskaya” into a poem has my admiration!

    Like

    1. I hoped these two meetings, past and present might coalesce, in a way. Turgenevskaya is the scene of one in ‘The Master and Margarita’. Thanks for taking the time to read this- I’m thrilled to hear that you can find grace in these carved words on a screen.

      Like

    1. I definitely will! I’ve just gotten back and I have a few things to catch up on. Thanks for these suggestions, I’ll look forward to reading your work. Thankyou for your thoughtful comments – means a lot.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s