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MELANIE MCCONNELL

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Complexities of Music


With a refined James Baldwin bearing
he approached her in another country.

He had never touched a white woman.
Her feet had never matched a black man's step.

Her delicate hand nestled
inside his like a butterfly in a cocoon,
she followed, meshed with him. 

They became one another's shadows.
The splash of her silk skirt against 
his extended leg cooled him,
as if he could feel the breath
of the sprinkles on the dancehall windows.

The band played a sultry Cole Porter tune.
Sliding, winding together, the room blurred.
Her ear tickled when his eyelashes brushed
against it, his head so close to hers.
Lilac perfume mingled with clean soap scent.

She opened her mouth,
words fell out like roses.
He felt lightheaded in the rapture
of attar and music.


Copyright 2003 Melanie McConnell

 

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