notes on a morning commute

a very rough first draft of a poem written more with feeling than with conscious thought

The gut sinks

gravity pulling down

OUT! OUT WITH YOU NOW!

it says as the bottom drops down

 

The eyes yearn

imploring silently

LOOK! LOOK AT ME PLEASE!

they say to the bluest stone

 

The cheek stings

freezing from icy kiss

ALL! ALL YOU GET HERE!

lips denying the familiar

 

The bones ache

weak with the strain of guilt

HELP! HELP US TO FEEL!

begging for strength

 

The skin begs

craves her warm embrace

HOLD! HOLD ME SWEETLY!

where we can't tell the start or the end