Losing my touch (I counted on you)

  • Posted on April 4, 2012 at 1:39 pm

the memory of hands
where fingers go
and the gates are barred

a place remembered
past fingers curled
in a mesh of wire diamonds

the space beyond silence where
fingers once danced
with jewels and laughter

if only my hands could call
receiver fingers ringing
all down the hot line to you

only sun on my hands warmer
my fingers number
because the wire is cold

if I let go, step back and
fingers become digits
I shall never count again.

2012 © Andie Davidson


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3 Comments on Losing my touch (I counted on you)

  1. […] reminds me of a poem some while ago: Losing my touch (I counted on you). […]

  2. […] where you left part of yourself or your life in trust, unable to regain access for retrieval? (See I counted on you.) Or maybe gone back and been hurt all over again? Time and again we do it, putting ourselves […]

  3. […] Losing my touch (I counted on you) […]

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