For the Rub
No Comfort in Confession
I find comfort in
eyes almond
smooth leather brown
history
club jersey
a smile brilliant
blinding
inertia pause
with every lip curve crest of it.
.
I find comfort in memory
meeting
under an open-held door
ribs contracted
limb tingle electric
he stammered, blushed
pupil contact
leveled, held for a mere second
severed by pandemic
zoom
pinned like an insect
inspected, studied, revered
fantasy flutters
on the other side
zoom
mirrored hallway collision
feet in pointed position
golden leaf pinched fingertips
drink suggested
pupil contact
leveled, unbroken.
Echoes of a blue mountain
yes, boxes
first words spoken
You are leaving.
.
12
About the Creator
No Real Balance
Reluctant Writer. Teacher.
Hawking vocal contests for love letters.
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