A tableau in the making
Look at my palm,
Solid as a rock,
Your softness placed over it,
My world; you are leaning on my fingers.
The parts of your back stuck in between them,
You turn right and look down at me. Smiling, no
stress;
As if you a feather I’d need soon to pen or fly!
But genuflecting, you turn around and look at me,
Now holding my fingers as your new-found window…
I ask you your eyes, those unmistakably yours,
What is it that you don’t believe!
Your lightness or my strength!
Watch me write now,
On what! You wonder.
About you or me! Pause.
I could be writing about us!01 September 2014
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