Leftovers by C.B. Auder
To My Psychiatrist by Marat Rutherford
XXXVIII
You’re trained not to love
me. I have a charm
for your sleeping eyes.
You’ll give consent against
your cooler mind.
I see through your shoes.
We are in new territory--
astonish me, invade.
XXVII
I love your love, a carnal bath.
Give me a diagram to your soul.
We invent one another
and inherit what we invent.
It is a dangerous tribute.
XIII
In our fragile encounter,
your swift thought
into me—our resonance.
I confess: without you
reading me, I am dispersed
with no memory.
XXXIX
Our knees became two
in the small bathtub.
The water overflowed--
our high tide.
I quieted my eyes
for the quake.
I had no armor.
You’re trained not to love
me. I have a charm
for your sleeping eyes.
You’ll give consent against
your cooler mind.
I see through your shoes.
We are in new territory--
astonish me, invade.
XXVII
I love your love, a carnal bath.
Give me a diagram to your soul.
We invent one another
and inherit what we invent.
It is a dangerous tribute.
XIII
In our fragile encounter,
your swift thought
into me—our resonance.
I confess: without you
reading me, I am dispersed
with no memory.
XXXIX
Our knees became two
in the small bathtub.
The water overflowed--
our high tide.
I quieted my eyes
for the quake.
I had no armor.
Marat Rutherford attended Sarah Lawrence’s MFA program where she studied with Tom Lux. Her recent work has appeared in Confrontation, New Orleans Review, and Awakenings Review.
C.B. Auder's prose, poetry, and artwork have appeared in Cleaver, 3Elements Review, Storm Cellar, Sweet Tree Review, and elsewhere. Follow Aud on Twitter at @cb_auder.
