Wednesday, June 24, 2009

hinged existence

your existence is questionable
until i stand nonchalantly
watching people wander
i'm not looking at them, but through them
looking for someone
a familiar face breaking through the sea
of strange combinations of eyes and noses
i'm minding my own business entirely
until someone stops in front of me
for just a moment - perhaps to meet someone
or to read a flyer posted along the street

i turn my head and my eyes are fixed
the hapless passer-by has paused
and i see a slender upper arm
expanding gracefully into the elbow
the elbow is youthful but enhances the effect
of arms with little more than bone
slight sinew
some would call it ungainly
that large joint which tapers into a slim forearm
but i have a tactile response

i remember when you sat across from me
doodling and dancing around the conversation
as i stared at your elbow connected to your wrist
to your hand that held the pen
the special pen you had to stop and buy
making you late for our meeting
i hear you babbling through trivialities
with an ironic eloquence
as you sketch with eyes turned down
then as i look up from your beautiful elbow
you stare into my eyes
daring me to say what i really feel

but the time for that has passed
i met your stare then glanced back at your sketch book
changing the subject with little more than a glance
back to your fingers and hand
along the slight hairs of your forearm
and back to that joint which has captured me
it reminds me over other sensations
i long to reach out and rest my hand on it
to stop the passing of time

suddenly you exist again
even after my familiar face breaks through the crowd
long after the passer-by passes on
the original moment lingers
as if it happened only today
like a lucid dream i welcome it
savor it
then let it slide back 
to be re-shelved in your section
covered with faux cobwebs

1 comment:

Bad Alice said...

I was trying to think of something more intelligent that just "I like it." But I do like it. The language is natural and direct. I think we all have those unexpected images, songs, whatever that snag a memory.