Pamplemousse

The Student Literary Journal of Vermont State University

Infidelity

Poetry

I never stopped to consider
its less illicit pleasures:

its syllables tumbling so readily
off the tongue, the tongue

slapping lightly, repeatedly,
the roof of the mouth, the mouth

left open, as if with expectation,
or in surprise, or song—this solo

which leaves you alone,
holding the final note.

Signs-that-she-is-cheating

I never stopped to consider its less illicit pleasures: its syllables tumbling so readily off the tongue, the tongue slapping lightly, repeatedly, the roof of the mouth, the mouth left open, as if with expectation, or in surprise, or song—this solo which leaves you alone, holding the final note.