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Christie Cole - poetry - back
What You Do
| And I forget who I am, |
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your words coming out
Japanese to my ears
because I only see two
arcs of eyelashes resting
on your left cheek, |
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begging for me to brush them
gently away |
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| And my hands are afraid, |
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illiterate to your signals
and crumbling into a pile of
sensitivity if you shift your
slight graze away from mine |
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| And my tongue disconnects from |
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my brain |
| And you render these words petty, inconsequential, |
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obsolete |
| And the lead of my pencil scribbles |
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disjointed |
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thoughts that can never |
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reconcile |
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themselves--- |
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| Do you see? |
- back -
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