22.5.11

Periphery

We are peripheral,
And our eyes do not meet.

I feel you
Sinking into my spaces
Filling those gaps,
Plugging ancient holes
With nonchalance,
Detached.

Our fingers intertwined,
Their form and texture
Is as familiar as the
Slow churn of disappointment
Dripping from head to stomach.

We are connected,
But we are not one.
We are tangled,
But we are not touching.

We are peripheral,
And our eyes cannot meet.

3 comments:

  1. I am in love with this poem. Linking to it. :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. And this for the third. My three very very very favorites. :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. I like your choices! They're on the list!

    ReplyDelete