Phantom Fingers

Standard

I cannot have your phantom fingers
On the nape of my neck,
Rolling over my earlobes,
Running parallel lines down my spine.
I have responsibilities.
I have schedules, calendars, deadlines.
Your hands, and their lingering indentations,
insinuations, and general implications,
need to find time in the aforementioned schedule
when I can devote the necessary mental energy
to reveling in their phantom touch.
As it stands, they are an annoyance,
a reminder that I was more agreeably occupied.
Now I have work to do.
I cannot afford to be distracted
By the ghostly sensation of pleasant pressures.
This is me, not being distracted.
Not being tempted.
Not remembering.
Am I succeeding?
No.
I am not.

Momentary Glitch

Standard

I am focused.

I am paying attention.

I am listening carefully.

Blink.

I am caught in a moment where I can see your eyes

And I wonder whether we’re sharing the same thought

Which has absolutely nothing to do with where we are

And everything to do with where we could be

A place with hands, earlobes, and sensitive wrists

Where we trace eternal patterns on temporary skin

Rehash old, Baroque pleasures with a new bass line

Feel our precious hearts hum in heat and happiness

Rediscover that which was always there

Stretched behind a knee, or the side of a belly

Blink.

I am focused.

I am paying attention.

I am listening carefully.

 

—-

I have a longer version of this poem – but I cut it down to this one verse because otherwise it’s not really momentary glitch. The longer this poem stretches, the more it becomes a coding issue, rather than a bug 😉