Cara Vespertine

Currently in NYC!

As a bright-eyed optimist, I take pleasure in every wondrous aspect of existence. When I’m not cozied up writing in a coffeehouse or wandering the aisles of a bookstore, I’m gathering material for my next poem—which is where you come in. I see my poetry as an extension of my sensuality, a way to relive the taste and feel of life as my tongue shapes every word. Every poet needs a muse and I find every part of a good date inspiring.

Picture it with me.

It’s a New York City night. Spring is just around the corner. There’s a hint of green on the Japanese maples and some tight pink buds on the cherry blossoms nearing opening, but your breath still blooms like it’s winter in the air.

Tomorrow, you have business to attend to. Tonight, though, you have a date. With me. Cara. You found me the other day, your eyes lingering on a slender yet curvy figure, you wanted to know more; when you imagined my eyes looking into yours you knew you had to meet me for yourself.

You wonder what I’m like in person.

You think you could like me: a mid-twenties graduate student who runs in the morning, studies in the afternoon, and heads to the museum before retiring home to luxuriate in a hot bath. I have a date tonight too, you know, and I like to take my time getting ready: some bubbles in my bath, Dickinson propped in the caddy, a little Johnny Cash in the air, a silk robe draped over a chair, waiting.

You wonder, too, about my story.

How long did I spend hiking through Eastern Europe? How many years did I live abroad? How good is my French?

As you near your destination your heart quickens.

You open the door. At first, you don’t see me. Then, you do: first, a bit of red lipstick on the rim of my wine glass, then the hand that sets it down, then the lips themselves, then my eyes, a little shine in them like I’m just emerging from a beautiful daydream as I rise to greet you.