hands
I couldn’t help but notice your
index finger, pointing at the graffiti heart
on the wooden gazebo, drawing
my attention to the turtle popping
above the surface of the pond
your fingers interacting like dancers
bending this way and that
in support of a greater image
holding my gaze as they wove
subtext around our conversation
I went so long without the touch
of another’s hands on my skin
so I imagine yours as we stand
happily trapped by the downpour
carefully erecting our borders
16 December 2012
Auburn, AL
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