deepundergroundpoetry.com
How Distance Touches
When her hand graces my face cupped
attention is nebulous as this
stuttering metaphor.
Yeah, it's like that.
When she emails desires for a future
better left unquantified, the clock
mocks the literal sugar she knocks
me... does it need to be like that?
When we video call for the first time
and my spinal column overloads
the way she is moved by a simple
poem, and yeah, huge fuckin' feels
Just like that.
And then I'm reminded how good slow
goes when I follow my nose and
how damn amazed by her soul
when distance touches us like that.
Chris Whitenack © 2014
attention is nebulous as this
stuttering metaphor.
Yeah, it's like that.
When she emails desires for a future
better left unquantified, the clock
mocks the literal sugar she knocks
me... does it need to be like that?
When we video call for the first time
and my spinal column overloads
the way she is moved by a simple
poem, and yeah, huge fuckin' feels
Just like that.
And then I'm reminded how good slow
goes when I follow my nose and
how damn amazed by her soul
when distance touches us like that.
Chris Whitenack © 2014
Published 2nd Jul 2014
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