Wife Observing Husband After a Night of Not Making Love

Mark Evan Chimsky

He is more at home with a hand.

The glass door is all concentric impressions

going drowsy with the gradual steam.

I try to identify the water-dropped shapes—

the outline of his 

fist in a steady slide is the only obvious motion.

I am no part of this sex.

The mirror, stealth accomplice, reflects his image

back to me.

His body sways brief as a gasp.

Is this enough?  It is everything.

The glass turns blind as a shade,

a white amnesia.

I practice my way into sleep,

Perfecting my place in this bed.

The shower’s rush is loud;

like any embarrassment,

it is the only sound.

Full force, the waters

are indistinguishable—one cannot separate

the hot, the cold.  It is the same with marriage; after years

of ironies

the difference between what is and what is meant to be

blurs with gentle sting

like fine water from a spigot.

Mark Evan Chimsky's poems and essays have appeared in The RavensPerch, Rabble Review, The Poet, Bard & Prose, Poetry for Ukraine, The Jewish Literary Journal, Kind Over

Matter, Bullets into Bells, Wild Violet, The Maine Sunday Telegram, The Oakland Review, JAMA, Mississippi Review, The Cincinnati Judaica Review, and The Three Rivers Poetry Journal.

Mark is excited to have his poems published in The Parliament. His poetry will also be appearing in upcoming issues of Blood & Bourbon, The Healing Muse 22, and The

Sunlight Press. Mark is a recipient of the Anna Davidson Rosenberg Award as New/Emerging Poet.

PREVIOUS
Mark Evan Chimsky
The Unrecorded Hour

NEXT
Kirsten Baltz
Ocean Gospel