Mag 93 -- red sofa

red sofa

The song begins
"I met my old lover
on the street last night,"
and--well--this is not
the same, but I met
my old lover's then-new,
now-old couch
on the street last night.

I could never forget it
or mistake another for it,
but I stopped the car to
confirm my find:
        ...
        Slow, deep bass notes
        rolled across the street;
        but closer to the sofa
        The Wind Cries Mary cried
        in humming sound waves
        under the freeway overpass--
        as if the sofa held onto
        a soundtrack of our
        free ways with one another.

                The red sofa still smelled of
                scented candles, pot, Cheetos,
                and our sex;
                in its velvet skin
                were waxes of varied colors,
                small burns from hot seeds and
                smoking embers, orange grease,
                sweet-&-sour droplets dried in
                subtle patterns of bump-&-grind.

I found my scratch marks
on the back behind,
the imprints of your knees
on the arms,
a yank of long blond hair,
the tip of a piece of leather strap,
                and a piece of paper
                crammed into the seat
                against the back rubbed raw:
                      ...
                      the cover from your
                      copy of the Kama Sutra
                      with my goodbye note
                      written on the other side.

                                                MLydiaM ~ November 2011


Visit Magpie Tales to read other Mag 93s inspired by the photo prompt above (photo by Christine Donnier-Valentin).  Want to give a nod to Mark Kerstetter whose "Wild" prompt at dVerse Poets for this week's Poetics set the tone for this particular magpie.

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