Friday, March 25, 2011

Darkling, I listen: 3/22 poem

you said
i wouldn’t feel
you leave

but i heard
the door slam
behind you

and i could
still feel
your thumbprint

on my cheek.


There were lines in your hands
red lines from your fingers to your neck
where you said you could feel still.

If you’d let me rub the line clean
you would wince from pain
but let me

as I run my fingers across your cheek
press my thumb against your cheekbone,
a red thumbprint

1 comment:

Ashraf Osman said...

Oh, how I've missed your poetry!