Where Does Love Go When It Goes

Photo © Jennifer Wagner

 

Yesterday, I took a tomato from the vine,

bit into its warm flesh, and let it fill my mouth

with sun.  The only thing missing

was a pinch of salt from your hand,

brushing seeds from my lips.

 

Today, I plunged my fingers into soil

and found my hands unbroken,

though my heart was cracked and capsizing. 

I settled peppers in neat rows to grow,

salt drying in smooth rivers on my cheeks.

 

Tomorrow, or sometime hereafter,

there’ll be salsa.  I’ll take water, make wine.

Where does love go when it goes?  It’s never lost,

but found in the seasoning,

in the garden, of the survivor.

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Poetics: Where does love go?

What’s Going On?  Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Swarthy, Silky, Smoky, Smooth

 

I’m a 95%-er when it comes to dark and bitter.  I’m your girl, so lay it on me.  You go on and have that cry; I’ll hold your hand when the proverbial sh-t hits the industrial-size fan.  Sometimes I go well with cream in the cup, most times I don’t.  I won’t sugarcoat—but at least I won’t be bland.  And you’ll remember this night sexier, silkier than you expected.  You’ll probably even wish daylight would knock on someone else’s door for that early morning run you forgot you committed to, choosing instead to let you stay wrapped up in sweet swarthiness, letting you savor the last bit of darkness down to the last crumb, the last drop.

 

smoky coffee, dense chocolate

how such dark things

can make me feel so light

 

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Poetics: Comfort Food

 

image above created by me using copilot