Friday, January 23, 2009


it was when you touched me that i realized
we were both wearing blue.
somehow that mattered in the grand scheme of things.
i looked through the sliver of air between our chests
and saw that you were still wearing your shoes,
as if you were afraid to take them off.
you picked me up with one arm and spun me around;
i landed with my hips against the counter and the
invisible bruises forming on my ribs already aching.
maybe i shouldn't have leaned back, but i did
and your fingertips floated like butterflies over my collarbone,
barely there and much too real.
it's not that i wouldn't, it's just that you seem unable
to take the time we both need.
i keep telling you it's ok, but you insist on touching me
like the world is ending.
your hands slid along the wool expanse of my back while i said i would see you later.
it was then that i realized we never mean the same thing by goodbye.

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