Intimacy I Never Fathomed















every 3 am
in the middle of the night
I meet a girl
in the broken mirror
whom I look into
desperately
and she stares back
indifferently.

it’s sort of funny
we look the same
but
it’s not hard to tell
which one is needy
and
which one is needed.

every time she traces
her finger on the flesh
I feel the hangnails
dragging across my skin.
there’s a lingering scent of her
I inhale through the pores of my skin.

I feel what she touches
I get a whiff of what she sniffs.
our bony cheekbones meet
our slender noses press together.

conjointly,  
we read a mind
we share a chuckle
a wounded friendship
a silent bond.

Comments

  1. I love this bit:

    I feel what she touches
    I get a whiff of what she sniffs.
    our bony cheekbones collide
    our slender noses press together.

    It makes me yearn for things I didn't know I wanted. Beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you to the heavens and back

    ReplyDelete

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