SheFallsSoftly

"Amid those landscapes roams the soul,
disappears, returns, draws nearer, moves away,
a stranger to itself, elusive,
now sure, now uncertain of its own existence,
while the body is and is and is
and has nowhere to go." -Wislawa Szymborska


It’s cold tonight
You stare at me
And I’m afraid the wind might pierce me
Bare skin, chapped hands, iced lips
A thousand icicle pins, probes, forceps
Immobilize and look inside
Your fingertips, my palm,
Blood rushes to my cheeks
I don’t belong
In this skin
You’re holding my hand
I try not to answer to reality
Caffeine and nicotine
Chatting idly,
I try to convince myself that
We all work this hard
To seem brilliant
I can feel your gaze
I catch your eye
And quickly glance away
Situate, disengage, resituate, run away
Useless stalk and capture when I’m the prey
You smile at me
You look happy and I claim this moment
As security

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 16th, 2006 at 12:05 am and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.