With Thanks to Bill Holm
Words lined up in particular formbring the mirror to your face,exceptit isn't your reflection as much as it is the face you thought you'd already forgotten.
I've been taken up by my hapless collar andpulled through the rake of divorce;tendons separating from bone.Bone and marrow finely defined.
Later, I leapt foolish footing from a cliff's edge I hadn't noticed, or pretended not to see. I didn't think, onlyfelt the fall and blessed its decent. Theragged bits of me weightless in the movement;fantom limbs.
I forgotthe sensible thing, the priority of selfpreservation and gave it upfor a guy with blue eyes, his hapless collar tented at theback. His raked form lovely to my missing eyes.
All these years for the sake of the heat of the hand in the middle of the night.The one that has been there for years. Will be.The heat that could melt a stone.



(I bid you good writing)