Two of Spades - Phantom Limbs
8 - Free Verse
Delayed due to computer issues. Thanks for the bailout Scarlett!:
Hands
Crack of knuckles
and to work:
cloth cords coiled round forefingers, blood
rushing to the tips
I pull - almost pain - and
release, relief
Palms now on smooth leather
cool, crawling up again
nails catch on stitching
wrists rest on icy grommets
Then:
strings secured in fingers' grips
I move my hands
proper pressure
precise, delicate like
I'm conducting to the carpet:
A perfect knot
On to boot number two
I seize it but
slick, slippery, it
slides from me -
once more: struggling
drops and wiggles across the floor
I grab again, angry
and it rears up
growing in my grip
spitting black from its tongue
laces whipping at my face
and threading through my fingers
wrapping my wrists
around my arms
real pain now
skin in binary colors: white or purple
I open to scream and get a mouthful of polish
coughing black
I cry out
I -
Awake in the blue light of my room
I stretch my fingers
The sheets don't move
I try to sleep again
Another poem coming here later today (I hope)...
In the meantime, check out April 8th's poem from last year.
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