You might as well be a flipbook,
a series of snapshots stuck
in the pages of a journal from which I
can always draw to incite
my fingers into action-

that you are a study in stunning poses
of which I am proud to know the motions
you have gone through to get there,

that these sensitive hands are reason
enough to learn the pink tides of your skin

that when speaking each other's names
our mouths become so alike in shape
that no one would deny they were meant to meet once,
perhaps twice.

02/12/2004

Author's Note: Revised x4. This keeps getting shorter, and I keep liking it less.

Posted on 02/12/2004
Copyright © 2024 Christina Gleason