LISA K. ROBERTS
First Kiss That Wasn't


The kitchen, waiting. It tenses and holds
as tile swells, fluorescence fierce
enough to freeze us, four feet
apart, on the cracked checkerboard.
Breath hangs in the air between us,
could pop and disappear
if pressed too soon, too hard.

LISA K. ROBERTS

This poem was selected for the 2012 Poetry in Public project, sponsored by the Iowa City Public Art Program. Poetry in Public displays poems by local writers of all ages in Iowa City buses, downtown kiosks, and select public buildings from April (National Poetry Month) through the fall.

This page was first displayed
on July 11, 2012

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