take me to the ends of this earth
and in just one glance i’ll swim double the distance
you can make origami from the skin i pinch when i think no one’s looking
but handle me carefully.
i am warm laundry, soft pastry in your hands and a touch can become heavy kneading
your shoulders are shaking
the room is reverberating
and at night you try to stifle your cries
thinking no one is listening,
i want to be more than just a scattering of flour on your fingertips.
i am not easily brushed off.
i am open
and you were honest
but your eyes flit around this crowded room
and they only rest when they meet mine
are they lying?
are your nervous hands just a pretence
a theatrical shaking to undermine your brash confidence
or are they the pathway to the truth
the slither of a cold moon
you count the stars when you think nobody is looking
but i see you.
your head bowed every night
your eyes screwed tight
but your smile lingers here
i see the air whisper your name
and i can taste the sound of your footsteps even with my eyes closed
but the mirror above the wall
its cracks are fading now
and while the clock is ticking
the hands are not moving.
time is passing at the speed of light
yet also fleeting,
the words we whisper at the dead of night
do they make a sound if no one is listening?