31 December 2010

Empty Hands

Photo ~ Diana Matisz












I miss the days
when I would find my hands
filled with your words
when I would take those words
caress my skin
smoothing the vernacular
of your life
into my thirsting body.

The inventory dwindles
as I hoard the last few
precious lettered communiqué
the 411
the missives
that fell generously
from your hands
to mine.

Fill my hands again
touch me
with your words.

4 comments:

  1. It looks like your words are wandering home just in time for the new year. Somehow they found their way back to the ontological world of metaphor; that bridging world between the real, the myth, and the metaphysical.

    Happy New Year

    Ted

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  2. Ted,
    They are slowly finding their way home, yes. A very Happy New Year to you and yours and thank you for your kind attention here.

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  3. Very restrained, but romantic, Diana, Lots of yearning...I remember when getting a letter from someone was the sole point of life for me...you bring that back. Lovely poem.

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  4. This is a really strong poem! I love it!

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