The Language of Touch
Our fingers whisper—
trace thin skin,
sympathetic nerves,
compassionate nails—
a graceful discussion
of analog thoughts.
We’re watching something
that I’m ignoring.
Sitting by your side,
not gazing into your eyes.
I’d rather eavesdrop
on our hands.
I don’t want to interrupt
their conversation
with this banal language
of sound and sight.
Our fingers,
more articulate,
say it all.
Bart! You had me at whispering fingers…beautiful.
Thanks. A poem’s got to start strong.
Wow. I loved “whispering fingers” and “I’d rather eavesdrop on our hands.” Strong finish. Great job.
Thanks. A poem’s got to end strong.
this is really touching and ethereal thanks for sharing :)
Touching: Nice pun. Thanks!