On a chaotic street
I looked to my wrist
hoping for the glimmer
of the metallic tickle of love
but it was not there.
Here’s what I think happened:
A thought of you came to me
and came again
as it often does
swelling my skin as if too long in a bath.
And the clasp -
unable to contain the elation
because it is just metal of this earth
drawn to a gravity which my thoughts defy
- broke.
It must have fallen somewhere between 23rd Street
where Broadway crosses over 5th
and births Madison,
before the Avenue must carry on into the bedlam
of Herald Square.
Passion-stricken
the little gift
plummeted in an ecstatic haze
and emitted a single, contented, heart-shaped moan
which expanded itself between the frenetic objects of a city,
siphoning all esprit in a nuclear wave
before it ascended to a higher stratosphere
and began a sonorous throb
which I like to think lasted
as a sublime glow
long after
the frenzy
of you and me.
Eleanor Keisman
Eleanor Keisman is an American expatriate based in Vienna, Austria, working in the communications department of an international educational NGO. Her essays, short stories, and poems have appeared in Litro Magazine, The Bangalore Review, Tough Crime, Last Stanza Poetry Journal, as well as adapted for a podcast "The Other Stories". She has an MFA in creative writing and co-organizes an English-language writing club in Vienna. In her free time, she enjoys hiking in the Vienna Woods, cooking, and reading. She has just finished her first novel.
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