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nor are we endless
by S. Chenthe
shell of a shoulder
blade broken beneath
hasty hands,
each fingertip
a wish.
*
these old prayers
are broken:
mend your teeth
and wait
for the call.
(days lack meaning if
these are the letters you do not write
and the numbers you do not dial.)
10/19/2006 Posted on 10/20/2007
Copyright © 2025 S. Chen
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 10/20/07 at 09:58 AM I'm not quite sure how this piece makes me feel, but I like it. It sets my mind in motion, not sure where it's leading to. great read!! |
| Posted by Mo Couts on 12/20/11 at 01:33 AM Your last stanza in parentheses is absolutely divine. Thank you for this. |
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