- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Hands
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I like not knowing. Hope breeds there. There is no scoreboard, just memory. I fondly think of you. I prefer long-distance friendships. Bait, hooks, and lure. Fumbled botched like untamed feathers. Hair to the middle of your back eyes closed those hands like I remember. My father was a butcher with hands like hams. June brings promise. How quickly each day slides into a year. It was right there all along. Found it though it made no difference.
- COMMENTS
erectus123almost 11 years agopoem in unorthodox paragraph form, the nexus between the elements might be closer. Some lines stand outside where they might interlock. "hands like hams" works
