Untouched

These are the parts of you
I never touched,
like the words I left unsaid.
Your cheek, pale in the pre-dawn light
was it rough with stubble?

I’ll never kiss you
when you have your goatee,
feel it prickle against my skin,
let you kiss me raw with it.

I did not run my finger
down the back of your neck,
trace the curvature of your ear,
or the sharp line
of your athlete’s shoulders

My hands never held
your small feet,
barely bigger than my own.
Did I tell you
how I love a man just my size?

All Saturday afternoon,
after you’d limped through all Ikea,
my eye wandered from our movie
to your bare and injured foot
to the delicate hairs
upon the shin I never stroked.

I did not discover
the crook
of your knee
or the cleft of your chin.

At least I felt your long-admired nose
pressed hard
against my forehead,
prominent and aquline,
broken in a boxing match.

This is what I didn't ask you--
to leave some mark on me,
something I could take
to prove to myself
we’d touched.

And there are words I didn’t say,
because I thought they could wait
for next time
which will never come.

But if it did
I would reach first
for those places I never reached,
like a tourist
returning to a beloved city,
once visited,
never forgotten.
 

Reviews

[A Season In Hell]

The poem flows from such personal level. I feel like it is easy to understand because of how real it is but at the same time very original. The end of the poem where you talk about the places you never touched and feeling like a tourist returning back to a city really wrapped the whole poem up.

-a 17 year-old female from AK

[Trisha Clark]

This is so lovely and well written, I would offer suggestions, but I really love it as it is. :)

'And there are words I didn�t say,
because I thought they could wait
for next time
which will never come.'

This verse makes it great.

[The Language of Birds]

Elizabeth,

Oh my God. Transported. What a lovely poem.

These are the parts of you
I never touched...

what a melodic and menancholy beginning. All of this poem is terrific, but when you wrote,

I did not run my finger
down the back of your neck,
trace the curvature of your ear,

I actually felt it.

and the image of the feet, so tender, reminding me of Cavafy, and

I did not discover
the crook
of your knee

perfect. You choose the perfect places for the tone of the poem.

And your final stanza could rival anything Pablo Neruda has ever written. like 'El Tigre' or 'The Infinite One'

Great work, again. It is good to see your work again after a long bout of business out here.

Take Care,

Jim C-D

[Steve Scrivens]

I love the idea behind this piece Elizabeth and it is brave and open of you to put the embryonic form on show.

Parts of this piece flow nicely, particularly the first 4 stanza but the 5th left me cold....perhaps the mundanity of a walk round Ikea just broke the spell. The more lyrical and wistful flow returns after the 5th Stanza until the final stanza. I have a sense of what you long to say here but the image, for me, is again too mundane set against the poetry of the other stanza.

If my critique helps or resonates with your own gut feelings then I shall be glad. Either way, I look forward to how you decide to progress this work because it contains much that I so enjoyed reading.
Steve x

[Daniel Packer]

I love the desperation and regret in this piece. The need to delve where one never did reminds me of those moments when you plague yourself with memories of past loves - things you never did, places you never went and, of course, sexual acts you never engaged in, but longed too. This is a great piece of writing. Take care.

Dan x x

[Greg Metcalf]

The inability to touch someone you love, that has to be the worst.
"My hands never held your small feet" This took the poem to an interesting place, I thought. From then on, I thought of these two as great friends who were maybe both too shy to make a go of it. Maybe he was insecure. If only she had let him know that she liked a man just her size. (not in those exact words, though) This felt tragic for both characters, this lost touch.
I didn't think the "like a tourist..." simile worked well for this piece. It took me out of the intimacy of this community of two who missed out on love. Ending it with, "for those places I never reached." would leave me feeling haunted by the emotions she is feeling. I definitely connected with this material, so, thank you.

[Adam McWhorter]

"At least I felt your long-admired nose
pressed hard
against my forehead,
prominent and aquline,
broken in a boxing match"

I love this section, it makes the man you talk about more real to me than anything else you said. There's something about a person's "flaws" and "imperfections" that make them more human. When you personified him to the point of giving a small back story (the fact that he broke his nose boxing), that made him more than a character. By the end of the poem, I felt like I knew him. This is a very intimate picture you painted here. I also really like the "kiss me raw" line when you were talking about his goutee. That was a very good description. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can give you any criticizim... I read over your poem again, and still there's nothing about it that isn't good or doesn't fit. It's very human and very beautiful... Thanks and good luck.

Adam M