Arms that only
know how to hold (you)
Have to learn to
fold
Themselves to the
side of my body
Tucked between
sheets
And under pillows
Anywhere but
around you.
Hands that held palms and fingers
That soothed an
aching head back knee or ankle
With a sure (and
vested) touch
Now is held
against my face
Is holding a pen
Is frantically
cleaning the house
Because it
doesn't know what to do when it's not polishing your skin to a warm brown.
Legs that wrapped
themselves around one leg or two
around a waist
Over a shoulder
Against a back
Now stretches as
far as it can go
And they go nowhere important.
Yes this body
needs to learn to rearrange itself.
These eyes have to
find some other place; not your face
The lips need to
give up their dependence on lips and fingers and chest and brow
The tongue needs
a new language because it speaks only of your gentle touch and awkwardness.
Every part of me
feels withdrawn parched and bereft
Of every part of
you.
But i need to win
this battle
Me not you.
Because otherwise
you'll continue to kiss close-mouthed
Turn away from my
reaching out hands
Move me away when i get closer
Run. Shrink back. And make a quick escape.
Rejection is hard
but rebuilding is more so.
But i am starting
with rebuilding.
i am starting with me.