Hello, bookworms! I’ve got another gift for you: more poetry! (I swear, I write fiction too.) This one I wrote to clear my mind, as I didn’t quite have the attention span to sit down and work on my manuscript.
In any case, here it is! I hope you enjoy!
***
Few and Far Between
Few and far between
are the seconds you allow
a finger to tap my ivory skin.
Dust gathers over my arms,
a fuzzy grey coat.
I try to sing, but my voice
sticks like molasses
in my lungs. Syllable
after syllable is sucked down,
never seen again.
The effect it takes to push it up
is too heavy for my creaking bones.
Day and night I’ve waited
and wondered
when you will return.
Tickle me lightly;
I promise I’ll laugh this time.
My voice will rise
and soar, and though I can’t promise
perfection, I will give you
back your smile.
The way you close your eyes
as your upper arms buckle,
fingers meticulously moving,
touching each key
to unlock my voice.
I am encased
in wood, a casket,
and set upon
by meaningless baskets;
spare keys,
porcelain figurines,
useless things that should
make you feel serene
but have failed you.
You blink hard
and furrow your brows;
your resting face is blank and
a little sad, like sagging wet paper.
When did I fail you?
What did I say
to drive your touch away?
I’ll never say it again,
even if I never speak again.
Tap me lightly,
and I’ll be silent.
Caress me again,
and I’ll tell you
whatever it is you want
to hear. Only, don’t walk past me
one more time.
Look at me with something
in your eyes
like a dying fire.
Use my limbs
as kindling.
Only, come back.
Touch me lightly,
and I’ll teach you
how to smile again.
Photo by Tadas Mikuckis on Unsplash
Rachel Sandell 