This is our first domestic moment. You sat on the bed
in the motel room. Your neck wrapped by a towel like a cravat.
Hair falling like blossom.
Us caught by the rhythm of a scissors in the dusk,
like a clock ticking.
A dead season of hair at our feet.
My slat-view in the glass—your face still unshaved,
me sculpting naked, my hand raised to your chin.
David Mohan is based in Dublin, Ireland, and and received a PhD in Literature from Trinity College. He writes poetry and short stories. He has been published in Alba, elimae, killauthor and The Prose Poems. He has won the Hennessy/ Sunday Tribune New Irish Writer Award. In 2011 he won the Gemini Poetry Open, and in 2012 he won the Cafe Writers’ International Poetry Competition. He has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize.