Cherry Blossoms

Poetry by Siobhan Jean-Charles

Constitution Ave. NW, Washington, DC 20565

Upstairs wander for hours as you lean
into every frame, examine brushstrokes,

limbs in motion, skirt folds peeling
through air like a clementine. Gently, not

to disturb the artwork. I walk
ahead to let you look

at me, your eyes soft like the press
of your palm against

my waist, urgent and gentle.
A touch that knows it must pull

away sometime, that cannot stay.
Downstairs, we stargaze abstract

constellations and you talk
about lavender mists. Tell them to open

the gelato bar, so I can taste
how it melts on your tongue and forget

I don’t like Pollock unless
his name is on your lips.

About the Author:

Siobhan Jean-Charles is a senior at Salisbury University on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Her work has appeared or will appear in Dark River Review, Polaris, Redactions, The Tusculum Review, and The Shore, where she is the social media manager. Before its publication in Furrow, this poem was rejected 21 times.

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