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Poetry By
  Adrienne J. Odasso

Published on: 11/26/2012
Letters to Lost Friends & Imaginary Lovers

When I think of you, which is often, snow falls
in the chambers of my heart—not because
we are at war, but because we missed
our one chance to meet. I pause to imagine
the sound of your laughter, and your name
will be the name of my first daughter.


In my darkest dreams, I have you:
quick eyes, stark smile. Still, the distance
between longing and having
was always what I wanted:
the harsh, unbelievable thrill
of being the hunted.


There is nothing to forgive.

You gave me a boat,
then set me adrift.

And I lived.


You hated me for guessing
that it was you—but no, I knew
just who I was looking at
that day beside the fountain.
Under your breath, you swore.
I chattered, spat out cherry-pits,
and loved you all the more.


You gave me Eden:

snake in the lilies,
and one last chance

to get even.


If I ever lose you, you will
be the hunted, know the thrill
of the chase, be the one whose face
I'll see in rain on the pavement, will throw
my life away when I can't make the call.


You will be the one
I've loved enough
to go quietly—that is,
if you'll even dare
to let me go
at all

(& dare you
I shall)

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