Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The Question

Fingertips trip past eyes, thighs, drag
sigh from chest and rest in crevice
between shoulder blades. Breath silent but moving
while heart, pounds, in ears straining
to listen to subtlety of movement

which comes when tension

breaks: lips’ question slips in space between two
faces, facing each other. As if something is about
to happen.

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