by Jon Riccio
I love you I loom you,
I say at the diner.
The waitress’s charm bracelet
trickles onto imitation sunflowers,
talismans dust syrup.
I think about our sutured future,
my hands on a maple-sated menu,
cuticles like covered wagons, the hostess
a mix of bellwether and bouffant.
You sweep where I munition the gin.
You love me. Intercession looms.
I think about suturing our future –
a lovers’ sphere is more than
decanters and velour.
Nicotine dissolves in an omelet’s eaves.
What I’d undo to funnel through your maroon shirt.
Jon Riccio received his MFA from the University of Arizona. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Qwerty, Hawai'i Review, Mead, Cleaver, Bridge Eight, apt, Paper Nautilus, Blast Furnace, and CutBank Online, among others. He serves as the poetry editor at Fairy Tale Review.