Antiseptics

I ordered the surf 'n turf 
with a baked potato which

a waitress said came with
assenting angels.  “No way!”

Flames leapt from your mouth.
You were tender with

the Neosporin on my cheek,
a sweet dab and one of your kisses

arranging molecules of skin with its
slight shiver of blood. 

We dipped putti in sweet butter
gold as a puddle at noon

and for our dessert, adored
their heavenly cries.   








Sarah Sarai's poems are in Boston Review, Threepenny Review, POOL Poetry, Pank, Eleven Eleven, and others; in anthologies including Say It Loud: Poems About James Brown (Whirlwind); Maintenant: A Journal of Contemporary Dada Writing & Art (Three Rooms Press); Gathered: Contemporary Quaker Poets (Sundress); in her collection, The Future Is Happy (BlazeVOX[books]).