by Maryjan Gay Munger
It’s that curve of skin
between your neck and shoulder
that somehow makes me think of
lightly floured bread dough
in a sunny kitchen.
I’m glad to know it’s this
that binds me to you—especially
when I thought it must be
something more elusive, something
like the smooth-grained timbre
of your voice or the sweetness
of your half-smile. I’m glad it’s none
of those. I’m glad the riddle has been
solved, that the answer
can be covered
completely with my hand.
MaryJan Gay Munger, a graduate student in English, lives in Springville with her husband, Casey. They are expecting their first child.
