Thursday, July 7, 2011

Clean Hands

Naked hands open to last year's hurricanes,
Blown clean and breathing
I remembered then
What my skin feels like
Smooth and young,

I let myself in on my own secret;
I never liked the feel of it there.

So strange to wake from moments
Floating between
Presence in my aloneness here
And random thoughts of you -
To discover my thumb checking,
Between second and third fingers

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