Caught In It

I cannot concentrate on the paper and pen
imagining the white sheets
as something to arch underneath
and grasp with every gasp in my hands
drawing a straight line
to things I cannot put down
to be picked up and discovered later

I sip coffee and it silks itself
to my tongue
like yours
like search and discover tasting
and slides down my throat
hot and not unpleasant as it burns.

The hard chair reminds me of red cheeks
a glimpse I caught sight of once you’d left
bereft of skin on skin soothing
now wood presses to reference again
but doesn’t make the sound
that cracks in my ears
and intakes my breath.

A salty night of it
I know it has soaked into my skin
wrinkling the tips of my fingers
leaving them staggered and rough
when tracing the lines on my palm
– All creases are distraction today

6 thoughts on “Caught In It

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