Frequent hands don’t reach further than your fingertips.
First Fruit shadow—blinds them like trying
to save a raindrop. Almost disobedient,
but you don’t know
if it runs to soil
it’s something
else. You can’t overshadow
this blush ripening your skin, though
it’s just a reach—not a grasp. A reach to inhale
perfection at birth. You promise
no touch. Well—no hold. Maybe
just one pick—well—a peek. Too late.
You might as well take it. Hang it
by the bells or tie it up
with an eye-fix saying, “little
moon in my evening corner, drip
some mist on my tongue,” then
that tale-of-a-venom could
melt into a serum while evening
tucks you in
and you evaporate
with dawn.
Author Bio:
Tia Paul-Louis is the pen name for fiction writer and poet Pascale Louissaint: a wife of a US Army soldier and mother of a three-year old girl. She has one sibling: an older sister. Paul-Louis left her first home—Haiti—to move to the US at age nine with her parents. Through many years of battling with foreign and old traditions that could never come to an agreement, she finally found a voice through writing and earned an MFA degree in Creative Writing from National University, in La Jolla, California. She began with lyric compositions at age 11 but later, became a lot closer to poetry. Inspired by poets such as Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson and Langston Hughes, she continues with her writing which appeared in journals such as As/Us, Eye to the Telescope, The Write Place at the Write Time, Rattle, Ancient Paths, Darkrun Review and several others. Paul-Louis’s themes portray family life, mental health, gender role controversies, and spiritual values. Aside from writing, she enjoys singing, playing the keyboard, watching animated movies, and exploring other aspects of art.
First Fruit shadow—blinds them like trying
to save a raindrop. Almost disobedient,
but you don’t know
if it runs to soil
it’s something
else. You can’t overshadow
this blush ripening your skin, though
it’s just a reach—not a grasp. A reach to inhale
perfection at birth. You promise
no touch. Well—no hold. Maybe
just one pick—well—a peek. Too late.
You might as well take it. Hang it
by the bells or tie it up
with an eye-fix saying, “little
moon in my evening corner, drip
some mist on my tongue,” then
that tale-of-a-venom could
melt into a serum while evening
tucks you in
and you evaporate
with dawn.
Author Bio:
Tia Paul-Louis is the pen name for fiction writer and poet Pascale Louissaint: a wife of a US Army soldier and mother of a three-year old girl. She has one sibling: an older sister. Paul-Louis left her first home—Haiti—to move to the US at age nine with her parents. Through many years of battling with foreign and old traditions that could never come to an agreement, she finally found a voice through writing and earned an MFA degree in Creative Writing from National University, in La Jolla, California. She began with lyric compositions at age 11 but later, became a lot closer to poetry. Inspired by poets such as Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson and Langston Hughes, she continues with her writing which appeared in journals such as As/Us, Eye to the Telescope, The Write Place at the Write Time, Rattle, Ancient Paths, Darkrun Review and several others. Paul-Louis’s themes portray family life, mental health, gender role controversies, and spiritual values. Aside from writing, she enjoys singing, playing the keyboard, watching animated movies, and exploring other aspects of art.
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