The Sunday Poem: The Smile
She wore it like a sundress: loose
And casual, unashamed of all
There was beneath. It fit, like blue
Fits water — clinging close, a fall
Of folds and shining white. It dressed
Her, danced her, light and lonely, held
Her in herself, contained her, less
Than kisses, more than faces will.
She was no person. Her smile enclosed
Her, was her; smiles do that, steal
Your body, take your eyes. She knows
It happened; yes, it came off, sheer
And casual like a sundress, quick
And lonely for an instant, not
A person, making love to lack.
She ran away; she knew, she thought,
How smiles are, how waterfalls
Splinter on rocks, how blue can fill
The eyes — how right she was — that all
Smiles kiss more than true faces will.