tender tendrils of
affection find their
way back to
wrap around my
fingers, some
remnant of last
december when we were
knocking teeth and
locking limbs.
notion clocking in:
if i hold this feeling
up to the light,
will i see it as
counterfeit or
genuine?
how precarious,
i pop bubbles
without knowing
whether more will
blow downwind to
my anxious hands
reaching up to
make them mine and
losing them in
palm-touch time.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
tender tendrils of
affection find their
way back to
wrap around my
fingers, some
remnant of last
december when we were
knocking teeth and
locking limbs.
notion clocking in:
if i hold this feeling
up to the light,
will i see it as
counterfeit or
genuine?
how precarious,
i pop bubbles
without knowing
whether more will
blow downwind to
my anxious hands
reaching up to
make them mine and
losing them in
palm-touch time.
Spent the afternoon in a coffee shop going through a book of Bukowski, and was challenged by a friend to write a poem that was short, sweet, and to the point
