TWO POEMS by M. MARTI
in morning
the bottom of the cup holds spit, suds, ground coffee,
creamer. condensation lines ceramic as a memory. a
new lip brushes ‘gainst the rim. transfers some shade
of poppy. dries down matte. pressed against a single
set of fingerprints. a single mouth.
poem
not every poem is a love poem
sleeping forehead to shoulder married
in my mind fist round your pinky
catching the anchor the
glimmer of ocean in your mother’s eyes
I’ve never liked blonde how I love you
now every poem is a love poem announcing
itself like a child swinging from the rope
holding on for dear life
M. Marti (she/her) is a poet, English teacher, and Philadelphia native. Her poem "borscht, after berrigan" received the 2024 Albert J. Caplan Prize through the Academy of American Poets. Find her on Instagram @psychomitchie.