The back of your heart

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I think about reaching out and settling my palm
on the expanse of your retreating back.

I consider asking if it is allowed,
keeping pace, and following
leaving enough distance that such thoughts are containable.
My hands with effort
stay safely by my sides.

You are very broad
male
before me
as you move.
My palm itches to rise and touch
to settle on the very center
of that mysterious expanse.

I want to feel the beat and rhythm of your life
and know my own response to it.

The desire to reach out makes me smile,
and keep a bit further behind you
than if you were someone else,
or I were someone else.

When we sit down to talk
we let words flow and pool
let them quiet
pauses happen
where thought and mind rest.
We share dinner.
We share time.

I decide I like your smile
and cradle the palm that itches and speaks with longing,
in my hand
soothing it’s whispering with pressure
quieting it’s restless energy.

Timid fingertips,
warm palm.
I long to rest my hand for heartbeats
on the center of your back.
What is in the water between us?
My questions leave me restless
and shy.
I chose to sit as far away as I politely can
but I think of touching you.

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ShadowsandflamesShadowsandflamesover 16 years ago
I can't decide which I like better!!

"On ending badly" was excellent, but so was this. I rather enjoyed that the subject matter and language are not as common as some other poems I have read tonight, and yet also not so uninteligible and obtuse that it leaves me scratching my head. Bravo

S&F

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