Kiss Encounters Deer

by Dean Blehert

You see, poised in the headlights,
a deer, graceful beyond words. You try
to say it–the words keep falling over,

so you tuck it away, hoping to find use
for that beauty someday. Later you meet
a girl whose kiss has a lightness
you can’t describe. The words are heavy
on the tongue.

You tuck it away in that same bag,
where it gets jumbled around until
kiss encounters deer,

and suddenly her lips touch you and,
like a deer (whose vanishing
lingers on the highway like the
vanishing of the touch of lips),

leap away.