every time you lifted your eyes the afternoon forgot
who she had been shining for
every second arriving slower than the last
even the clock seems reluctant to interrupt
whatever was becoming possible
light holding its distance
as if not wanting to be outshone
dust holding the shape around you
longer than air felt it should
maybe you were close enough
for me to notice your breath
the smallest strand of hair
moving against your shoulder
my hand resting beside yours
doing nothing
while the distance between us
becoming less
increasingly difficult to ignore
every time you moved
warmth crossed the space
before you did
i began to understand
how much of touching
happens before skin
my fingers moved
almost without permission
then stopped
perhaps desire
was simply learning
from you
you never seemed brighter
than anything around you
that would have been easier
instead
everything seemed to borrow
something from you
the glass catching your reflection
held it a moment after you moved
even the shadows
gathered closer
where the light touched your skin
i remember wondering
how something could become more beautiful
simply by standing beside you
perhaps that was when i understood
you were never the light
you were what taught me
to notice it
Episode 2 of Sixteen Ways to Touch Light is coming soon.
Paid subscriptions are 50% off this August.
☕ Or keep me supplied with coffee, cake and books.
Something more poetry from me?
Nothing truly leaves — it only changes how it stays.
All artwork courtesy of NDjin Gallery
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.