The joints in my hands, you said, so agile, fluid,
Rosy red at the knuckles, curved and hard like marble.
Water hands, you said, long and wise and familiar.
The mosaic of skin, how it grazed yours like air,
How it may have changed the world around you or settled in your gut like lead;
One of the two.
The phantom behind you and something behind me.
Invisible, and therefore, irrelevant.
"Yes, that is how people are."
YOU ARE READING
the space above my ears.
Poetryfreestyle poetry/prose absolutely feel free to comment and vote! i love hearing what other people have to say/interpret; let me know if i should keep uploading.
