Friday, April 20, 2007

waiting for the hint of a spark.

this is no longer our secret. it is
the pebble caught under our skins,
the scar tissues just thickening,
the rusted nails that dug too deep
and left their marks irrevocably.

i want to hold your hands and tell you
'love, you've taught me what love is;
and love, it is you.' but love, all that i can do
is take your hands and show you the most
delicate parts of myself:
the soft lips and the flimsy wrists
i guard to myself most of my days
but now ask that you not touch this place
with the fire of your hands
and your skin's hot wax.

i want to lace my fingers into yours
and say, 'love,
you've showed me what it is to love
and it is to love only you,'
but love, all that i can do
is tell you i don't need you anymore today
than i did yesterday, and anymore
than i ever will. you cradled the weight
of my words in your arms
for far too long and then you dropped them
heavily, clumsily at my feet.

apologies mean too much to me.

this is no mercy prize,
no purple heart is pinned
in glory to your chest.
you look up at me
with fear in your eyes
and a strange gratitude,
and i haven't figured out why yet

1 Comments:

At 1:55 AM, Blogger Sam Christie-Sgro said...

this is fucking amazing.

 

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