"Remembering times that we have touched things."
digging up shephard's needles
fingers on flower stem, pull and hollow snap awaits. gently
follow it furry to where stems congregate
in a viscous nub,spiny hub to subterranean thistles
tug it until you feel it give, dig fingertips
in grit, grip the tangle tips, knotted together at flower's lips
twist and rip these seams mis-stiched sand tumbles,
loose and sparkly it filters on skin. abrasive. nail clinging
tooth flingling.
times that we have touched things. i skin a thing?
once i went into your room, looking for a pen.
i wasn't looking for a pen so much as an excuse to search
in your drawers. you kept wearing those long sleeve shirts
in the middle of summer. in the south. you asked
leading questions and gave me the answers.
i still didn't want to know. there was a bandage roll
the kind that sticks to itself a the absorption built in.
that's new, i thought. i unrolled it. it made a small sucking sound
like newborn velcro. i re rolled it. it stuck. i wrapped some
around my bicep. i expected the softness of gauze,
a cotton wick. this was furry. i dropped some water on it
and it soaked it up. i considered astroglide to test consistency
but you didn't have any. i was surprised. the place i'd watered
was dry on my skin, damp to my finger. the bandage
clung to arm. i felt kind of bad it had no job to do,
i would have to toss a perfectly good bandage after
because the sticky only lasts one or two times and in my enthusiasm
well,
you know.the way your hair grows thick and i run my fingers
in the lushness softening your thighs closer than
i'll ever be they grow from roots, resisting pluck and pull
the linen sheet is smooth but has texture. if it were a river it would be the suwanee.
it it were a taste it would be mashed potatoes. if it were a smell it would be rain.
if it were breakfast it would blended yogurt. with berries. no banana.
the anemone is nubby, rubbery. cold. if it were a lake it would be in the arctic.
if it were a taste it would be macaronit. it were a smell it would be tangenital.
if it were a car it would be a tesla.
the sandspur is pricly, piercing, sticky,angry. if it were a person it would be psychotic.
if it were a taste it would be red bull. it were a smell it would be treated waste.
if it were a dinner it would be uneaten.
this glass is smooth, even, cool. if it were a dream it would be idyllic.
if it were a taste, vanilla custard. if were a smell, mint julep.
if it were a racehorse, all bets are off.
fingers on flower stem, pull and hollow snap awaits. gently
follow it furry to where stems congregate
in a viscous nub,spiny hub to subterranean thistles
tug it until you feel it give, dig fingertips
in grit, grip the tangle tips, knotted together at flower's lips
twist and rip these seams mis-stiched sand tumbles,
loose and sparkly it filters on skin. abrasive. nail clinging
tooth flingling.
times that we have touched things. i skin a thing?
once i went into your room, looking for a pen.
i wasn't looking for a pen so much as an excuse to search
in your drawers. you kept wearing those long sleeve shirts
in the middle of summer. in the south. you asked
leading questions and gave me the answers.
i still didn't want to know. there was a bandage roll
the kind that sticks to itself a the absorption built in.
that's new, i thought. i unrolled it. it made a small sucking sound
like newborn velcro. i re rolled it. it stuck. i wrapped some
around my bicep. i expected the softness of gauze,
a cotton wick. this was furry. i dropped some water on it
and it soaked it up. i considered astroglide to test consistency
but you didn't have any. i was surprised. the place i'd watered
was dry on my skin, damp to my finger. the bandage
clung to arm. i felt kind of bad it had no job to do,
i would have to toss a perfectly good bandage after
because the sticky only lasts one or two times and in my enthusiasm
well,
you know.the way your hair grows thick and i run my fingers
in the lushness softening your thighs closer than
i'll ever be they grow from roots, resisting pluck and pull
the linen sheet is smooth but has texture. if it were a river it would be the suwanee.
it it were a taste it would be mashed potatoes. if it were a smell it would be rain.
if it were breakfast it would blended yogurt. with berries. no banana.
the anemone is nubby, rubbery. cold. if it were a lake it would be in the arctic.
if it were a taste it would be macaronit. it were a smell it would be tangenital.
if it were a car it would be a tesla.
the sandspur is pricly, piercing, sticky,angry. if it were a person it would be psychotic.
if it were a taste it would be red bull. it were a smell it would be treated waste.
if it were a dinner it would be uneaten.
this glass is smooth, even, cool. if it were a dream it would be idyllic.
if it were a taste, vanilla custard. if were a smell, mint julep.
if it were a racehorse, all bets are off.
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