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Fingertips

We said forever

in the genuine hope

of touching eternity,

as if the protection of vague vastness

could wrap separate

the cold shiver of parting.

 

But here the nakedness of separation

shows falsity

peeping through, not as a lie

but a laying bare

of unsafe promises,

the risk lining commitments

we don’t understand.

 

And no, I am not leaving

but neither can I stay here unchanged

or ask the same of you.

 

We trail our fingertips softly

in the presence of a shifting now

that offers only the solace

we can bear to feel,

and offer up with the next breath.

 

And oh! I am grateful

for your bravery,

the ways you allow me to tremble

and still be here,

the ways you let me in

to see your shaking.

Published inPoems