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Second-hand Kimono
Mary Makofske


Not silk, but cotton worn soft
by caress of breast, back, shoulder,
the hands of lovers

loose, beltless, flying open,
its winged sleeves dangerous
near kitchen flames

kindling other flames
lit by perfume, scent of bodies, sweat
the ghosts of other lives

not rich, but the everyday robe
of a woman of simple desires—
a garden, a walk at dusk

a nap at midday, blinds drawn,
her husband beside her, kimono
slipping to the floor



Mary Makofske’s lastest books are
World Enough, and Time (Kelsay, 2017) and Traction (Ashland Poetry, 2011), winner of the 2010 Richard Snyder Award. Her chapbook The Gambler’s Daughter is forthcoming from The Orchard Street Press. Her poems have appeared in Poetry East, The American Journal of Poetry, Southern Poetry Review, Spillway, Talking River Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, and other journals and in nineteen anthologies.

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Have you read these poems:
If I’m not careful, it all becomes word by Pam Vap
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