Lock and Key

Sweet pain
and reticent motion,
falling
in love
and holding back
for fear
of pain,
the push
and pull
of listening
and wanting
to hear,
of holding on
to every syllable
and yet rejecting
the thought
of any rejection.  

How do you
ride a machine
and not know
how it moves
and take its curves
as a source
of your own motion?  

The playful dissection
of knowing
every step
and not understanding
the foot
that takes it.  

How to kiss,  
and not
to stumble
on the way
to pulling the chair
and replacing it,
the subtle motions,
the key,
the engine,
the spark,
the fascination
of taking a drive
and knowing
that no metaphor
can ever
take the place
of the real thing.

runningturtle87