Very much just another blog

The slip in the grip of the palm I kiss

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The day has warmed and warmed, moved closer against my skin as the hours go by. As I watch the sun drip slowly down thick sheets of deep blue sky, I feel it hotter, like butter melting onto me. I am lying in the park, running spread fingers through dry grass.  The breeze is low and slight and hums gently at my ears. A man walks close and his shadow swings across me.

If this shadow were you, I think with my eyes kept closed, perhaps I wouldn’t feel anymore like I am falling through thin earth and thick sky. If this shadow were you, perhaps I would be caught and not feel again that I am kept only loosely in hands that can not or will not hold with more force or weight or purpose.

There needn’t be malice for there to be pain and I know you never meant to hurt me. But there is slip in the grip of the palm I kiss and I can press my mouth harder to keep from losing one more thing, but there is always a date, there is always a time that undoes kisses and scratches lightly at just tasted skin. Soon it is always time to leave.

I open my eyes. I have to squint, shield my eyes to give definition to the figure that is dark and cut out of the light that shines around him. I know this man; not you but him. I know his fibre as he knows the parts that make me. In the space between us is everything that was and would have been. He kneels and I move to meet him, my face lifted as he talks softly on to cheeks quickly hot and wet with tears. I can’t understand what it is that he’s saying, I just know his voice as it used to be. And anyway, it doesn’t matter, because in between the first hope and the last he will tell me he loves me. And I will know, like you, he does; just not enough.


Written by elikafm

July 16, 2010 at 2:35 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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